


A Breath of Fresh Air

by Hot_elf



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Inquisitor meets Champion, Mages, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-09-23 13:00:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9658433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_elf/pseuds/Hot_elf
Summary: Hugh Trevelyan has a world to save - a serious business that leaves no room for such frivolities as romance and dating. Until Varric introduces him to his old friend Izzy Hawke who manages to turn his world upside down in no time at all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EasternViolet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EasternViolet/gifts).



Hugh Trevelyan wasn't overly fond of surprises. Truth be told, he had never seen the appeal, not even as a kid at Satinalia, when his mother had tried to come up with a special gift he hadn't expected. No, he much preferred to know in advance what awaited him, be it pleasurable or dangerous, and he always made sure to be well prepared.

So, when Varric started dropping hints that there was _someone_ who wanted to meet him, but refused to say more, his first reaction was to snap at the dwarf to just get over it and come clean. And his irritation only grew when Varric led him up to a hidden corner of the battlements, glancing furtively around to make sure no one was following them.

"Honestly, Varric?" Hugh huffed in exasperation. "What is this all about? Couldn't we have met your mystery friend in the tavern, or in my quarters, if it's all so very secret? This is a little dramatic for my taste."

"Ah, but you see, she enjoys a bit of drama." The dwarf winked at him as they rounded a corner. "I approve, because quite frankly, it makes for far better stories." He pointed to the hooded figure that had stepped forth from the shadows. "And hers is the best story I've ever had the privilege of telling. Meet the Champion of Kirkwall."

"Inquisitor." The hood was tossed back to reveal a mop of dirty brown hair and a pale face with large blue eyes. "It's an honour to meet you."

Varric was grinning from ear to ear, pleased with himself. "May I introduce my good friend Izzy Hawke?"

" _Izzy_?" Hugh could have bitten off his tongue, but it was already too late.

"It's Isadora, actually." Hawke made a face. "No idea what my mother was thinking. I prefer Izzy, if it's all the same to you. Or just Hawke."

He had to admit the nickname suited her much better than her given name. Hawke wasn't quite what he'd expected. Her robes were shabby and travel-worn, and her staff a plain wooden stick, not nearly as fancy as his own Deathward. But if he concentrated, he could feel the aura of magic emanating from her. Judging from it, her power rivalled his own, but there was something odd about it, something untamed and raw that was vaguely disquieting.

"As you wish." Stiffly, he inclined his head. "And the honour is mine."

"Why?" Hawke flashed a merry grin at him. "Let's be honest, I completely fucked up Kirkwall. Mind you, I did my best. But not even Varric could deny that I only ever succeeded in making things worse."

"Not your fault, Iz." Varric gravely shook his head. "I doubt anyone could have done better."

"So…" Hugh cleared his throat. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

"Well, Varric mentioned that you had a run-in with good old Corypheus…"

She had his undivided attention from the moment she mentioned the darkspawn magister. And what she had to say gave him the first glimmer of hope in weeks. Here was someone who had fought and defeated the monster before, and lived to tell the tale. Besides, she offered to introduce him to a Warden named Alistair who supposedly had even more information about their foe and his plans. Hugh was sincerely glad to have her on his side, even if her manner still grated on him.

"Crestwood, you say…" He closed his eyes, calling up a mental image of the map of Ferelden. "Your Warden ally will have to wait a while. We can't possibly travel there at this time of the year. At the very least, we must wait until the passes are clear."

"But that could take weeks," Hawke protested. "Can't we risk it? I mean, how bad can it be?"

"Winter in the Frostbacks?" Hugh raised an eyebrow at her petulant tone. "Very bad indeed. You're lucky that you made it up here alive."

Cursing under her breath, Hawke turned away, kicking at her untidy backpack in frustration. Clearly, patience wasn't her strong suit.

"If I may make a suggestion…" Varric raised both hands in an appeasing gesture. "Iz, why don't you stay here for a while and join us for the First Day celebrations? Leliana can get a message to your Warden, if you're worried about him. But you look like you need some rest, and it would be fun to catch up."

"It sure would." She smiled, but at the same time she shook her head. "But I daren't stay, Varric. It's too dangerous. Isn't your Lady Seeker still hunting for me? And she isn't the only one."

"Leave Cassandra to me." Hugh used his best authoritative voice, the one he had perfected in many heated discussions back home in the Circle, to restore order when the Libertarians and the Loyalists were screaming insults at each other. "There's no way I'll let you risk your life in the mountains again. You can stay here, and the Inquisition will guarantee your personal safety, Champion. You have my word."

She stared at him for a moment, then her lips twitched. "Wow. For a moment there, I thought you were going to declare an Exalted March."

Hugh gritted his teeth at her mocking tone, but at the same time he didn't miss the tiny sag of her shoulders. For all her bluster, she was relieved. He bit back the scathing answer that had been on his lips, and contented himself with an angry glare.

"I'm sorry. That was out of line." Hawke had the grace to look embarrassed. "But really, please don't call me Champion anymore. It… It doesn't feel right, not after everything that's happened."

"Very well." He nodded. "I'll keep it in mind."

"So… When you said we could leave Cassandra to you…" Varric coughed delicately. "Does that mean _you_ are going to talk to her?"

Against his will, Hugh grinned. He could just imagine the Lady Seeker's reaction when she learned that Hawke had finally been found. But he was confident in his ability to deal with her wrath. Though, perhaps…

"Perhaps it will be better if Hawke stays out of sight until I've informed Cassandra." He considered for a moment. "You can use my quarters for the time being. Please feel free to make yourself at home there and have the servants bring you everything you need." He brushed aside her protests. "Nonsense. I can find another place to sleep during your stay. My room is the safest and most comfortable option."

"See? I told you he's a decent guy. A real gentleman, too." Varric bent down to pick up Hawke's belongings. "Come along, Iz. I'll show you the way."

Hugh watched them leave, amusement and apprehension warring in his mind. _Well, this is going to be interesting._

* * *

He _had_ knocked on the door before entering. And he was sure he'd heard her reply, blithely asking him to come in. Which made the scene in front of his eyes all the more unexpected.

Izzy Hawke was lounging in the wooden tub, eyes closed and a blissful expression on her face. Steam was rising from the surface of the water and he could make out the scent of his favourite bathing oil, a mixture of sandalwood and coconut, with the faintest hint of jasmine.

Hugh was wondering how best to announce his presence, when she opened her eyes and favoured him with a relaxed smile. "I figured it was you. Did you tell Seeker Pentaghast?"

"Yes." He took a careful step closer, carefully averting his eyes. "Cassandra was furious. But she's a sensible woman. She will come around once she has calmed down. Don't worry."

"I wasn't worried. Varric told me I could trust you." Another smile. "Could you help me with my hair?" She indicated the tangled mess on her head with one hand. "It badly needs a wash."

That much was correct, but he still couldn't fathom why she was asking _him_ , of all people. "I could ring for a servant girl, if you-"

"Oh, come on." Hawke rolled her eyes. "I won't bite. Pretty please?"

"If you insist." Gingerly, he approached the tub.

He was glad to see that the water had a milky sheen from the oil, enough to preserve a modicum of decency. But even so, his hands were trembling slightly as he reached for the soap and began to lather up her hair. To his surprise, the foam immediately took on a dirty brown colour.

"Yuck." Hawke grimaced at the sight. "I hate dying my hair. Let's hope it all comes out."

It did. It took two rounds of soaping up and rinsing, but when he'd washed out the last remnants of the dye, he could take a guess at her natural hair colour. A warm honey blonde, if he wasn't very much mistaken. He caught himself wishing it had already dried so he could see if he was right.

"Ah, that's better." Hawke stretched voluptuously, and the movement made her upper body rise a little bit out of the water.

Hugh swallowed hard. Her bare shoulders were glistening, and the soft curve of her breasts was taunting him, a tantalizing swell of flesh above the water line, smooth and round and perfect. Quickly, he turned away and reached for a towel.

There were faint lines of amusement around her eyes, but she refrained from commenting, and she kept herself decently covered when she got out of the tub, much to his relief.

"There is more we ought to discuss, but I think it can wait till tomorrow." Hugh made an effort to sound cool and professional. "If there is nothing else you need…"

"I'm fine, thanks. Just really, really tired." Hawke eyed the bed longingly. "Good night, Inquisitor. And thank you." She gestured vaguely at the room, tub and all. "For everything."

"Good night, Hawke." He withdrew discreetly. "Sleep well. You're safe here."

* * *

Izzy slept like a log, and when she woke, the sun was already high up in the sky. It took her a moment to make sense of her surroundings. _The Inquisitor's personal quarters_. She had to admit the man had good taste. No overstuffed Orlesian monstrosities, no heavy Fereldan oak, just plain, comfy furniture and lots and lots of books.

The bed was large and soft, and Maker, when was the last time she'd slept so well? She frowned a little when she realized the tub had disappeared during the night, which meant that the servants had been here and gone without her even noticing. _Oh, come on, Izzy. He said you're safe_. Still, it wouldn't do to get too complacent.

Experimentally, she bounced up and down a little on the mattress. Good quality, excellent for sleeping, and probably for other things, too. Though, judging from the Inquisitor's pinched look last night, he wasn't getting a lot of action. _Poor sod._ It wasn't because he was lacking in the looks department, that much was sure. He was attractive enough, with his high cheekbones and his shock of dark brown hair. Well-built, too, especially for a Circle mage.

_Ah, well._ It was no use contemplating the Inquisitor's assets at this point in time. She'd better get up and dressed, before all the important decisions had been made.

Making her way downstairs, she was met by a friendly servant girl who took her to the kitchens for a snack and then pointed her toward the 'war room', where according to her, 'the Inquisitor was in Council with his advisors'. Council with a capital 'c', as was evident from the girl's reverent tone.

"You mustn't disturb them, messere. It's best if you wait outside."

Izzy nodded and smiled and sent the girl on her way, then pushed the heavy door open and walked into the room.

They were all there. The Inquisitor was wearing heavy Orlesian robes that suited him far less than the plain homespun clothes he'd worn last night. Next to him, she recognized Cullen, sporting an atrocious fur cape over actual armour. He looked tired and pale, and a lot older than the man she remembered. Sister Nightingale was a familiar face, too, and the beautiful warrior with the short-cropped hair next to her had to be Seeker Pentaghast. She was scowling at Izzy and seemed about to say something when the Inquisitor raised his head.

"Ah, Hawke." If Hugh Trevelyan was irritated by her sudden arrival, he didn't let it show. _Ever the diplomat_. "How good of you to join us. May I introduce my team of advisors?"

"You may." She sauntered closer, to catch a glimpse of the heavy table set up between them. Most of its surface was taken up by a map of Thedas, with little markers distributed all over it. _Cute_. They were really going out of their way to emphasize that the Inquisition was not just some ragtag band of misfits.

"I do remember Knight-Captain Cullen." Picking a prettily carved marker from the table, she examined it thoughtfully, while fluttering her lashes at Cullen. "From the Gallows in Kirkwall."

Cullen flinched, though she wasn't sure whether it was because she'd reminded him of the past or because she was messing up his precious strategy games. Probably the latter. The Knight-Captain was a decent sort, but he'd always had a huge stick up his-

"No longer Knight-Captain, Hawke, and no longer a Templar." Shit, he sounded all sad and exhausted. What was wrong with him? "But I do remember you, too." Without a word of reproach, Cullen took the marker from her hands and carefully placed it back on the table.

The Seeker had followed their little exchange with barely concealed annoyance. "Isadora Hawke." She spoke with a harsh accent. "How kind of you to finally grace us with your presence."

"Cassandra, please." Trevelyan threw her a pleading look, then proceeded to introduce the other two.

"Hawke has valuable information for us." He made an inviting gesture. "Would you please repeat what you told me last night?"

Izzy nodded, suppressing a sigh as she braced herself for the tedious discussion ahead. _How does he stand it?_

* * *

"You know, I really don't think you should be here." The Inquisitor's tone was friendly, almost conversational, but for some reason he still made Izzy feel like a child who'd been naughty.

Trevelyan was looking rather pointedly at her feet, dangling over the armrests of the huge monstrosity that served as the Inquisitor's throne. There weren't many people about in the throne room at this time of the day, but she had already been on the receiving end of several disapproving glares. Apparently lounging on the throne was not an acceptable form of behaviour.

Of course, Izzy had never been one to stick to what was considered _acceptable_. And Trevelyan's prim and proper attitude only served to fire up her rebellious tendencies further. Leaning back in the soft cushions, she stretched luxuriantly and gave him her most innocent look. "Really? But why? I'm quite comfortable."

His face remained impassive, but wasn't there the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at his lips? _Intriguing_.

"I am sure you are." His voice remained perfectly measured. "But our Orlesian friends are sticklers for etiquette, and they don't appreciate your lack of respect for our institutions."

"And you mustn't offend their delicate sensibilities." With a sigh, she took his offered hand and got to her feet. "Honestly, how do you do it? I'd go stark raving mad if I had to put up with this shit on a regular basis."

He shrugged. "It isn't so bad. Hardly worse than Circle politics."

"Oh, yeah." She followed him down the stairs and through the throne room. "I keep forgetting, but you've spent all your life in a Circle, haven't you? That must have been horrible."

To her surprise, he chuckled at her words. "It wasn't, actually. I didn't mind so much. We got excellent training, and our life was peaceful and comfortable. A wonderful library, good food, warm beds. Good friends, too, and stimulating conversation."

"But you were locked up!" Try as she might, Izzy couldn't hide her indignation. "Locked up for no other crime than being what you are! How is that fair?"

"It isn't." His lips had set in a grim line. "But it was for our own safety. Have you ever seen an abomination? It's no laughing matter."

"I've seen my fair share, thank you very much." Who did he think he was talking to? "Kirkwall, remember? And anyway, you've been out and about for quite some time now, and I don't see _you_ sprouting scales."

"I… I've asked Cullen and Cassandra to watch over me." There was no mistaking the strain in his tone. It was probably just as well that they had reached the courtyard by now and were alone, far from prying eyes. "If they see me succumb to temptation, they know what to do."

"But you won't! That's a load of horseshit." Izzy shook her head impatiently. "Look, I've been on my own all my life. It's fine. The big, bad demons don't stand a chance, if you're strong enough."

"Well, maybe I'm not." He almost shouted the words, and that was so out of character that it genuinely shook her. "Blight it, Hawke, is there anything at all that you take seriously?"

"Not since Ostagar, no." She bit her lip, feeling suddenly very tired. There was no point in arguing with him. He had his load to bear, just as she had, and Maker knew, she was in no position to lecture him. "My apologies, Hugh. I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine," he cut her off. "Good night, Hawke. Izzy," he added reluctantly.

"Good night." She watched him walk away, his shoulders tense under the fine velvet of the robes, his left hand balled into a tight fist.

A heavy load indeed. She didn't envy him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

First Day at Skyhold was a festive occasion. Everybody was dressed up in their most elaborate finery, and Josephine had spared no expense in decking out the throne room with all the necessary paraphernalia. There were ribbons and candles, and holly wreaths and mistletoe, buffet tables creaking with food and large cauldrons filled with steaming mulled wine. For a few hours, they could celebrate; for a few hours, they could forget about Corypheus and the Red Templars and the Venatori.

Hugh was grateful for the respite. And maybe he had a little more wine than he should have. How else could he explain how he'd ended up here, next to Izzy Hawke, in a daringly low-cut blue taffeta dress that brought out the colour of her eyes, with mistletoe dangling over both their heads.

"It doesn't count if you are holding it, Sera." He glared up at Sera's smirking face. "Only if we happen to walk under it."

"Do you really care?" Izzy's smiling face was right before him, and her lips looked soft and inviting. "I, for one, would be willing to make an exception."

Hugh held his breath, trying to work out if the dizziness he felt was due to the wine or to her proximity. She had put on some subtle perfume, probably a gift from Josie or Leliana, and he inhaled her scent deeply, intoxicated by its sweetness.

"No. I don't care." His voice sounded foreign to him. Slowly, he tilted his head.

Izzy just laughed, and then her lips were on his, light and teasing, and he was sorely tempted to deepen the kiss, to bury his hand in her golden hair and plunder her mouth, to taste her, to make her moan-

But the moment was already past, and she pulled back with a smile. "See? That wasn't so bad."

"Not at all. It's just a silly custom anyway." He kept his tone light, but somehow, he doubted he had fooled her.

She looked at him for a long moment, her gaze thoughtful and appraising, then winked at him and turned around to head for the buffet. Her hips were swinging seductively as she crossed the room, and he just barely suppressed a groan.

Before he could make up his mind what to do, Vivienne found him and dragged him off to meet a senior enchanter from Wycombe – _You simply have to meet him, darling, he has the most interesting theories about the flow of magical energy._ There were others demanding his attention, courtiers and mages and ambassadors, and soon the atmosphere became too stifling to bear.

He headed out for some air, feeling inexplicably lonely and wistful. Izzy was laughing with Dorian and Bull over in a corner by the door, and as he passed them, he realized he was going to miss her _. Ah, well. Can't be helped_.

The cold helped clear his head, and he was about to go back inside, when the door opened and she was there, silhouetted against the bright lights inside.

"Good thinking. I need a break, too." She joined him at the balustrade, and for a while, neither said a word.

"Look, there's Draconis. My favourite constellation." Izzy pointed up at the clear sky. "And there's Equinor, the Stallion."

"You know your astronomy very well." He hadn't expected that.

"Yeah, well. Anders taught me." Her smile was sad. "Before…"

"Ah, the infamous Anders." Instinctively, Hugh tried to lighten the mood. "They used to tell stories about him in all the Circles in Thedas, you know. How many times did he try to escape?"

"Six or seven. And he didn't just try, he succeeded," she corrected him.

"So he did." _And see where it got him_. There was no need to say the words aloud. She knew better than anybody else how Anders' foray into freedom had turned out. Better change the subject again. "You know, I ran away from the Circle once."

"You never!" She stared at him, eyes wide open, momentarily distracted. "Really?"

"I did. When I was seventeen, shortly before my Harrowing." Hugh closed his eyes, calling up the memory. It was a story he'd never told to anyone before, and he wasn't sure why he was talking about it now. "I wasn't alone. Her name was Elaine and she was…" He swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. "She was lovely and special. They caught us, of course, and brought us back. We got off lightly, because we were young and it was our first attempt."

"And then?" Izzy was listening with uncharacteristic quiet attention. "What happened to her?"

"We…" Maker, this was more difficult than he'd anticipated. "We went through our Harrowing a few weeks later, both on the same day. Only, Elaine… She didn't make it, and I very nearly failed myself."

He'd thought he was so well prepared, but the desire demon had caught him unawares, with a vision of a happy future with Elaine: a family; children; a home. By the time he'd realized what was happening, it had almost been too late.

"I'm sorry." Izzy had been watching his face the whole time, and now she took his hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm so sorry."

"It's all right." He took a closer look at her. She was shaking, her lips blue from the cold. "But you're freezing. Let's get you inside and warm you up!"

"Good idea." Her teeth were chattering, but the sparkle in her eyes was undimmed. "I know. You get me a glass of mulled wine, and in return, I'll introduce you to some other ways to get warm." She grinned at his baffled expression. "Don't look at me like that! I was thinking of a dance, maybe?"

"A dance. Right." Hugh felt mildly dazed.

Izzy took his arm. "Come on. It will do you good."

Hugh hesitated. But then he felt something new and reckless flutter in his chest. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he led her toward the light and warmth. "I guess it will. You have a deal."

* * *

The dance did warm him up, just as Izzy had promised. As a matter of fact, Hugh was decidedly hot. The moment they entered the hall, Izzy had dragged him off to join Blackwall and Scout Harding in a wild country jig that had left him breathless and laughing. He looked utterly disheveled, his shirt untucked and his hair tousled and untidy, but at the same time he hadn't felt so alive in years. Vivienne gave him an odd look, but everybody else was smiling benevolently, and for once, Hugh decided not to give a damn about Madame de Fer's opinion of him.

Izzy hardly left his side for the rest of the night. She kept talking, telling funny stories of her time in Kirkwall, particularly of her posse of companions there and their various romantic entanglements. Some of the names were familiar from Varric's tales, though Hugh discovered quite a few discrepancies in their respective versions of the same events.

At some point, late in the evening, when most of the guests had already left, he found himself back on the dance floor with Izzy in his arms. Only this time, the music was soft and low, and the light from the burnt-down candles was dim and intimate. Izzy was pressed tightly against his body, not a hair's breadth between them, her eyes shut and a blissful smile on her face as she moved in time with the music. She felt good, warm and pliant, and her hair smelled sweet and enticing. If he closed his eyes as well, it was easy to pretend there was no one else around, that it was just them, enclosed in a safe space, a happy little bubble of their own.

Hugh wasn't drunk. He wasn't in the habit of indulging in excess, and tonight, more than ever, he'd wanted to keep his wits about him. So he'd contented himself with a tiny sip of the mulled wine. Izzy, on the other hand, had drunk without regard for the consequences, and when the dance ended, she kept swaying on her feet, smiling dreamily.

"Come. I'll take you to my… to your quarters." Gently, he took her arm. "Time to call it a night."

She didn't protest, following him meekly up the stairs and to the doorstep. But when he let go of her arm, she twisted around, and before he knew it, they were embracing again. Once again, she offered her lips for a kiss, and it would have seemed churlish to deny her. And this time, they didn't stop at a mere peck.

This time, her lips parted the moment he brushed his own against them, and this time, he didn't hold back. Cupping her head in his hands, he kissed her deeply, exploring her mouth thoroughly, drinking in her taste, her sighs, her moans. And Maker, it was better than he could have imagined, sweet and wonderful and utterly addictive. One kiss wasn't nearly enough, so when it ended, he kissed her again, and again, and once more for good measure, and she was just as enthusiastic as he was, clinging to him like a burr, her body flush against his. It took an effort to release her and take a step back.

"Right." He cleared his throat. "Time to say good night, I believe."

"But, Hugh!" Izzy's smile turned into a pout when she realized what he was doing. "Won't you come in? I'm not tired, not at all. Besides, I don't think I can get out of this dress without your help."

He hesitated. It was a transparent pretext as those things went, but then again, there was probably quite a bit of truth in it. The robe was laced up with tiny hooks all the way down her back. There was no way she would be able to undo them all by herself.

"All right." He allowed her to drag him over the threshold. "I'll help you."

She turned her back to him, raising her arms to hold up her golden curls, and the movement was so unselfconsciously graceful that it made him swallow. Izzy was naturally slim, and after all the months she'd spent on the run, going hungry more often than not, she looked as delicate as a wildflower. He knew she was tougher than she looked, of course. She had to be, to have survived all those ordeals. Still, she seemed so much more vulnerable tonight than in her customary mage armour, all her bravado gone and just the fragile human being remaining. Which was a lot more attractive to him than the Champion persona, if he was honest.

Slowly, carefully, he undid the hooks, his hand trailing down her back in a gentle caress. Her skin was just as smooth and silky as the fabric, but warm and slightly damp with sweat. Underneath, she was wearing nothing but a few wisps of silk that just barely preserved her modesty. And Maker, she was lovely, and it had been so long since he'd had a pretty woman in his arms, so long since he'd allowed anyone at all to touch his heart.

"Hugh." She leaned back against him with a breathless sigh, swaying slightly on her feet. "You're quite good at this undressing business, you know. I like a man with clever fingers."

The brush of her hips against him made him shiver, and she didn't miss his reaction, grinding herself more intently against him.

"Mmhmm. You feel good." She was practically purring, but again, he had to steady her to prevent her from stumbling. "Stay with me. Please."

He hesitated again. It was hard to resist the temptation to remain here with her all night long _._ But on the other hand… _No. This won't do._ He came to a decision, though not without regret.

"Ssssh, Izzy. Come on." Sliding his arm around her waist, he picked her up bodily from the floor and carried her over to the bed, lowering her gently onto the mattress.

Izzy arched her back, extending her arms invitingly. "What are you waiting for? Make love to me."

And again, he was tempted, sorely tempted, but he had his principles and she was in no state to make a rational decision.

"No. You're drunk, and you need to sleep it off." Pulling the blanket up to cover her, he pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead. "Good night."

"Blight it, Hugh!" Her voice held a genuine note of indignation, but at the same time it was slurred enough to strengthen his resolve. "I'm not some blushing maiden, for fuck’s sake. I know what I want."

"I'm sure you do." He took a step back. Better to put some distance between them. "But so do I, and I…" Taking a deep breath, he raised his chin, meeting her gaze without flinching. "When I make love to you, Izzy, I want you to be sober enough to remember every detail. Every touch, every kiss, every caress."

She opened her mouth as if to contradict, but then yawned hugely instead. "All right." She pouted a bit, but she settled back into the pillow, her eyes already closing. "Night, Hugh."

* * *

Izzy woke with a pounding headache and a sour taste in her mouth. And unfortunately she was all alone, once again. She had been so sure Hugh would join her, so confident that she had him wrapped around her little finger. But clearly his principles had gotten the better of whatever allure she possessed.

With a deep sigh, she rolled out of bed and got dressed, flinching at the icy coldness of the water when she liberally splashed her face. Her head still felt like a combustion grenade about to go off. No, on second thought, more like a jar of bees, buzzing angrily, and faintly sticky. Either way, she would have to do something about it.

Hadn't Dorian mentioned a hangover potion a few days ago when they'd polished off a bottle of Nevarran red together? He was quite skilled at this sort of thing, at any rate. With newfound determination, Izzy set out to find him. She finally located him seated at a table with the Iron Bull in the otherwise empty throne room. They both looked slightly worse for wear, but they smiled when they saw her coming.

"Ah, Hawke!" Bull's deep, booming voice easily filled the room. "You look like the deeper end of the void."

"Well, thank you very much. Always the charmer." A well-aimed punch to his upper arm with her tiny fist made him wince, much to Izzy's satisfaction.

Bull had been dismissive of her when they first met. _You don't expect me to believe in Varric's stories, right? That fight against the Arishok can't possibly have gone the way he describes it._ Izzy had responded by challenging him to a practice fight out in the yard, which had drawn quite the crowd of spectators, and had then proceeded to teach him a quick but painful lesson. He'd been quite respectful ever since.

"I'm not usually inclined to agree with him, but he's right." Dorian was undaunted by the nasty look she aimed at him.

"I always am." Bull grinned widely. "And you were quite _inclined_ to anything I suggested last night. As a matter of fact, I was impressed by your flexibility."

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Was Dorian _blushing_? He shot her a quick, sideways glance, as if he was hoping she'd missed Bull's remark. " _Kaffas_! Can't you be a little more discreet, you savage?"

Bull shook his head with a low, rumbling laugh. "Look, all I'm saying-"

"Now, much as I hate to interrupt this little lovers’ spat of yours…" Izzy raised a hand to block off their protests. "I seem to recall that you're good with potions, Dorian. Do you have something that might help with this hangover of mine?"

"Sure. Come along with me." Dorian motioned for her to follow him to his quarters. "I have just what you need. _We_ will talk later." The last words were addresses to Bull and accompanied by a glare that left its recipient wholly unimpressed.

"By all means." Bull was, in fact, grinning widely. "Looking forward to it."

Dorian just sighed and led the way to his room. Izzy smiled to herself, but regretted it immediately when another flash of pain stabbed through her temple.

Gratefully she accepted the vial Dorian handed her and downed it in one go. He watched her carefully, nodding in satisfaction when he saw her relax. "That's better."

Izzy closed her eyes, almost overcome with relief. _Thank the Maker for Dorian._ When Hugh had introduced them, she'd been wary, expecting the worst. Her friendship with Fenris had not exactly predisposed her to be friendly with mages from Tevinter. But it hadn't taken her long to figure out that Dorian was no Danarius. They'd spent hours discussing the topic of slavery in his homeland, passionately but civilly. And while she didn't assume her arguments had changed his mind completely, she was pretty sure she’d made him think. By now, they'd become friendly, maybe even friends.

Dorian was still watching her, a critical frown on his expressive face. "So… I'd assumed you and Trevelyan had finally done the deed, but you don't look like things went according to plan. What happened?"

"What do you think?" Quickly, she recounted the events of the past night.

Dorian laughed softly. "So he was all gentlemanly about it? Just like our dear Inquisitor. Really, the man is far too honourable for his own good. I'm never quite sure whether to find it endearing or infuriating."

"Me neither." Izzy sighed. "Ah, well. Maybe he just isn't interested."

Then again, he _had_ kissed her. And it had been a _good_ kiss, demanding without being greedy, forceful but not violent. _Nice._ And his parting words… _When I make love to you…when_ , not _if_. Still, he seemed in no hurry to have her.

With a deep sigh, she tore herself out of her musings.

Dorian wasn't even bothering to hide his smirk. "Don't let it get to you, Hawke. Trevelyan is a good man, but he takes himself far too seriously."

"He does have a sense of humour, though!" The words left her lips before she could stop herself, and predictably, Dorian’s grin widened even further. He didn't say more, though, and she left with a cranky huff. Really, whatever Bull had planned for him, it would serve him right.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

"The Maker doesn't tell us magic is evil." Mother Giselle's voice had taken on that pontificating tone that never failed to raise Izzy's hackles. "Over and over again, he has told us that he loves all his children, be they farmers, nobles, warriors, or mages."

"Huh. Interesting." Izzy knew it was pointless, but she simply couldn't stop herself. "This Maker of yours never stops by to chat with _me_."

The Revered Mother turned to face her, extending her arms in a gesture of acceptance. "Ah. Serah Hawke. Forgive me. I hadn't realized you were here."

'Here' being Skyhold's pretty, quiet garden, set up as a space for prayer and meditation and frequented mainly by the Andrastian faithful. Despite the fact that she herself certainly didn't qualify for that latter group, Izzy rather liked the garden. Or had done so, until Giselle and her entourage had shown up and begun droning on about the Chant, spoiling the peace and quiet of the afternoon.

"Is my presence here offending you?" Stretching lazily, Izzy pointed her thumb at the rather ugly statue of Andraste against whose plinth she'd been reclining. "Am I perchance breaking some sort of commandment by using the Maker's bride as a backrest?"

To her credit, Mother Giselle's eyes wrinkled in a kind smile. "Not at all, Serah Hawke. Andraste is not so easily offended, and neither am I."

"Glad to hear it." Far from quelling Izzy's rebellious tendencies, the old woman's saintly patience only served to kindle them further. "So… About the Maker. Why doesn't he talk to me, personally? Is it because I have kind of a bad history with the Chantry?"

Giselle earnestly shook her head, refusing to be baited. "Those furthest from the Maker are the ones most in need of him, my child. Trust me, the Maker will speak to you as he does to all his children, if only you're willing to hear his words."

Really, it was too much. Was there no way to get the old bat to drop the jargon and show some real emotion? Tossing back her head, Izzy favoured her with her most provocative smile. "To be honest, I'd rather he didn't. Chances are I wouldn't like what he has to say. And since I don't intend to change my ways, it would be a waste of breath anyway." Scrunching up her forehead in a frown, she pretended to ponder her own words. "Assuming the Maker breathes, of course. Does he? Or is it beneath him?" With a shrug, she got to her feet. "But hey, next time you talk to him, give him my regards, will you? Just in case."

The shocked intake of breath among the assembled Andrastians told her that this time she had managed to score a hit, as did the sudden tightness around Mother Giselle's mouth. But before the old woman could reply, a familiar deep voice sounded from behind her.

"Revered Mother. I apologize on behalf of my guest. Please forgive her thoughtless words." Hugh looked pissed, there was no doubt about it. "Hawke. Would you mind coming along with me?" He turned and walked toward the stairs to the battlements without bothering to check if she was there.

"Not at all." Rolling her eyes, Izzy followed him. In a way, she was glad that he'd showed up. As fun as it was to provoke the Revered Mother, she couldn't really afford more trouble with the Chantry.

Hugh didn't speak until they were on top of the battlements, and he didn't look at her, just sighed wearily and stared out across the magnificent vista of sky and mountains. "Hawke. Izzy. Was that really necessary?"

_Shit_. Now he'd managed to make her feel bad for adding more stress to his day. Which of course only served to increase her sullenness. "Probably not," she grudgingly admitted. "But-"

"There's no 'but' about it!" Finally, he turned to face her, and blight it, he looked really angry, not just mildly annoyed. "Why would you think it's appropriate to blaspheme against the Maker in a sacred place? Why would you insult someone like Mother Giselle who goes out of her way to see both sides of the conflict? Can't you see she only wants to help? Can't you-"

"Oh, come on." She had to cut him off, before he became too enamoured with his own eloquence. "I get it. Mother Giselle is practically a saint, and no doubt the Chantry will recognize her many qualities as soon as she's dead and gone and has stopped spouting uncomfortable truths. Doesn't mean I have to like her." Pouting prettily, she took a step closer to him, placing her hand on his chest, savouring the sensation of firm muscle beneath his soft robes. "Look, I know I've been bad." She shamelessly batted her lashes at him. "But surely, what I said wasn't _that_ blasphemous. The Maker must have heard much worse, don't you think?"

"As has Mother Giselle, no doubt." His tone was bone-dry, but the hint of a smile was playing around his eyes, and he didn't flinch away from her touch. "So, you think I should forgive you?"

"Well, the Maker would," she purred, inching yet another step closer. "Shouldn't you follow his example in all things?"

She was practically in his arms now, and he cast a nervous glance at their surroundings, making sure there was no one around to see them.

"You're impossible." His voice cracked a little on the last word, and his hand came up to rest on her back, pulling her closer.

"Aw, come on. You like it." She wiggled a little against him, tilting her head back in a clear invitation.

But just then, someone called his name from below, and Hugh immediately took a step backward. "Right then. I'll do my best to smooth things over with Mother Giselle. See you later."

He was gone before she could make an attempt to stop him. _Damn it._ Sighing in frustration, Izzy headed into the opposite direction. Maybe a walk on the battlements would help her cool down. _This is getting ridiculous_.

* * *

It had been a long and trying day. Izzy's run-in with Mother Giselle had only been the beginning of a long line of annoying little incidents. As he smiled and nodded at the courtiers lining the Great Hall, Hugh was doing his best to hide his irritation, but it was an effort. Really, being the Inquisitor wasn't that much different from dealing with squabbles among the apprentice mages. Everyone demanded his attention, everyone felt that _their_ problem was the only one that mattered.

When he'd finally managed to tear himself away from all the petitioners, he decided to go looking for Izzy. All things considered, she had settled in well at Skyhold so far. She had been wise enough to avoid Cassandra, for the most part, and she'd easily made friends with some of his other companions. It was something she seemed to have a knack for, far more than he'd ever had. Dorian and Bull were completely at Izzy's beck and call by now, and Varric would have laid down his life for her in a heartbeat. She even got along with Sera, though on second thoughts, _that_ wasn't astonishing at all.

It took Hugh a while to find her, and when he did, he heard her laugh before he saw her. She was in Varric's quarters – no surprise there. He hadn't expected to find Cullen and Blackwall there as well, though, and he'd certainly had no inkling of the scene that would await him.

They were playing Wicked Grace, had been doing so for some time, judging from the stale air in the room and the number of empty bottles on the table. Predictably, none of them was sober, not even the Commander. Cullen's face was flushed with wine, and he was busy unbuttoning his shirt, preparing to pull it over his head. Blackwall was already down to his breeches, his hairy chest proudly on display, while Varric, still fully dressed, was collecting his winnings with a satisfied smirk.

Izzy was leaning back in her chair, sipping wine and slowly licking her lips while she ogled Cullen. She herself was only clad in a thin breastband and tight leather pants. Her hair was a tousled mess, and a tiny drop of wine was trailing down her chin, down the perfect column of her throat, further down between her breasts… And Hugh was seized by a sudden urge to catch the wine with his mouth, to lick her clean, to taste its rich aroma as it mingled with the salty tang of her sweat. But at the same time, anger rose within him like bile, hot and bitter.

When he cleared his throat to announce his presence, none of them heard him above the whoops and catcalls accompanying Cullen's disrobing. The Commander's shirt came off to reveal a perfectly chiselled chest and a tight abdomen, wide shoulders and muscular arms – a warrior's body, strong and powerful, and, Hugh had to admit, quite gorgeous.

"Goodness, Commander." Izzy's voice sounded breathless and sultry. "If I'd known what you were hiding under that Templar armour, I'd have been a _lot_ nicer to you all those years."

Varric nearly choked on his drink, and Cullen blushed a deeper shade of red, stammering as he searched for an answer.

But Blackwall had spotted Hugh, and he, at least, had the grace to look sheepishly embarrassed. "Ah. Inquisitor. Care to join us, maybe?"

"No, thanks." Hugh didn't bother to hide the disappointment on his face when Izzy looked up at him, her blissful smile vanishing at the sight of him. "Enjoy your little get-together, gentlemen. Hawke."

He turned on his heel and left. He'd seen enough.

* * *

"Awww, shucks!" Cursing, Izzy got to her feet and reached for her robes.

She hadn't meant for things to go quite so far when she'd agree to play cards with the guys. But one thing had led to another, and the wine had flown freely, and somehow things had gotten out of hand. _Damn it!_ _I should have called this off an hour ago!_

Sure, seeing Cullen shirtless had been a memorable experience, but Izzy wasn't really interested in him any more than in Blackwall or Varric. She had just been bored, and the game had been so much fun, much like the old days at the Hanged Man, with Anders and Fenris and Sebastian. It had been flattering, and so very exciting besides: the look of desire on the men's faces; the way their eyes lingered on her bare skin with barely concealed hunger; the happy tingle travelling down her spine.

Still, Cullen and Blackwall were just friends, nice enough guys, but that was all. She didn't _want_ either of them. And she hadn't wanted to sleep with any of the guys in Kirkwall either, no matter what Anders had told himself. It wasn't her fault if men were attracted to her, after all. No, she decided, her conscience was clear. The whole thing had just been some fun among friends, nothing else.

And besides, Hugh only had himself to blame. Tying her belt, Izzy huffed impatiently when it got tangled in the folds of her tunic. If Hugh had been a _little_ more accommodating earlier, she wouldn't have had to go looking for attention elsewhere, right? But now, after he'd seen her like this, he would probably be worse than before, all stiff and angry and disapproving. _Really, he can be such a prude._

When she'd finally managed to get dressed, she set out to find him, ignoring her fellow players' protests. Hugh had vanished completely in the meantime, of course. But she had her ways and means of finding him. After all, there were few mages of his calibre around, even in Skyhold, and his aura was almost strong enough to taste. _Especially now that I've had a taste of the man_. Izzy grinned at her own wit as she followed the traces of magical energy through the fortress.

It got entangled in Lady Vivienne's signature for a short while, near the Great Hall. They were similar in many ways, both of them saturated with Circle magic, powerful and skilled, but tamed and subdued. Solas felt completely different, as did Dorian, but Vivienne was a distraction. Still, a little focussing helped, and she was able to locate Hugh in the end, up one of the towers, in a part of Skyhold that was still only partially restored. The tracing didn't get more precise than that, but it was enough for her to find him, moving quietly through the empty rooms.

He had hidden away in a derelict bedchamber on top of the tower. When she heard his voice, she almost retreated, fearing he wasn't alone, but then she realized he was _moaning_ , and she actually sped up for a moment, fearing he might be hurt. Fortunately, she realized her error before he noticed her presence. _Oh_. Not moans of pain, definitely not.

Hugh was lying stretched out on the bed, his eyes firmly closed, biting his lower lip, one of his hands hidden from sight between his legs while the other one was slowly stroking up and down his shaft. Whatever had gone through his mind after he'd left her and the others, at least some part of him had clearly been sufficiently inflamed by what he'd seen that he'd decided to take matters into his own hands.

Instinctively, Izzy averted her eyes and turned to leave, but then she hesitated. He had to be far too distracted to sense her presence, and it was dark enough outside that she could hide in the shadows of the ancient musty wall-hangings. But the moon was shining in through the window, bathing the bed in its silvery light, allowing her a perfect view of his hand moving rhythmically up and down.

He hadn't stripped completely, just bared his cock, and Maker, it was a beautiful cock, nicely shaped and a decent size, too. And Hugh was gorgeous like this, his skin almost translucent in the soft, white light, every muscle in his body taut and tense. Izzy knew she should respect his privacy, knew she should withdraw, but there was no way she was going to miss this. Let the Maker punish her afterwards, but she intended to savour every detail, every sigh, every gasp.

Hugh paused for a heartbeat to spread the pearl of fluid that had gathered on the tip of his cock, and Izzy had to bite back a moan of her own at the sight, because she wanted to _taste_ him so badly. He resumed his strokes, faster now, jerkier, and she couldn't take her eyes off him for a single moment, not if her life had depended on it. _So hot_.

She was soaking wet herself, pulsing with want, and part of her wanted to come out of hiding, to let him know she was there, ready to take care of him, but she didn't dare. He'd been so angry, so coldly, fiercely angry earlier on, and he probably would be even more furious at her for watching such an intimate moment. Yet, how could she not? His moans were getting louder now, and every one of them went straight to her core, making her shiver all over. And then he _whined_ , just once, and went perfectly still for a heartbeat before spilling all over himself, streaks of pearly white creating a stark contrast against the dark fabric of his robes.

And Maker, she would have loved to stay and watch the aftermath, watch the tension drain from his body, watch him clean up that lovely mess he'd made. But she had to run, or he would know she'd been there. With a last, regretful look back at him, Izzy turned and fled down the stairs. _Such a waste_.

* * *

Slowly, Hugh opened his eyes, flinching at the sight that greeted him. He'd have to sneak into his temporary quarters and change his robes before anyone saw him and jumped to wholly justified conclusions. Really, what had possessed him to hide up here and jerk off like a school boy, to the image of Izzy, half-naked and dissolute, her skin so smooth and beautiful, her curves so enticing…

Maker, he wanted her so much. He couldn't even recall the last time he had felt such an urgent, almost violent _need_ to be with a woman. Yes, he was mad at her. Jealous and angry and more than a little hurt by the way she had looked at Cullen. And yet, those feelings only seemed to stoke his desire further.

Over and over, while he got up and returned to his room by the stealthiest route available, he tried to tell himself that it was no use. Izzy was what she was, an incurable flirt, provocative and irresponsible, and often irrational. He couldn't afford to get involved with her, even if he wanted to, and she certainly couldn't be expected to change for him.

But at the same time there was a tiny whisper at the back of his mind that told him that this sassy, superficial mask wasn't all there was to Hawke. He'd caught mere glimpses of the woman behind it, but what he'd seen had intrigued him. _Maybe if…_ He was too exhausted to think about it now, though. As soon as his head hit the pillow, the Fade overtook him. The problem of Izzy Hawke would have to wait for another day.


	4. Chapter 4

A week later, Hugh finally judged the weather mild enough to travel to Crestwood. Izzy could have screamed with relief. Skyhold was nice and peaceful, but she did worry about the Wardens, and besides, she rather thought she might be going mad cooped up there, with Hugh keeping his distance from her so carefully. They hadn't talked about the night of the card game, but he had noticeably withdrawn since then, and that _hurt_ , more than she cared to admit.

The first part of their journey took them along narrow mountain roads where they had to ride in single file, but as soon as the road got wider, Cassandra guided her horse to Izzy's side.

"You seem to have changed your mind about helping the Inquisition defeat Corypheus. I wonder why." The Seeker's harsh accent did nothing to soften the abruptness of her words.

Izzy eyed her warily from the corner of her eyes. She'd done her best to avoid Cassandra so far. Varric had warned her to keep her tongue in check in the Seeker's formidable presence. _And whatever you do, don't mention Blondie. As far as she knows, he's disappeared for good._ Izzy's eyes narrowed at the thought. There was no way that harridan would get her hands on Anders, not if she had any say in it. Yet, Hugh seemed to think highly of Cassandra, and maybe she ought to make an effort for his sake.

"I'm not helping the Inquisition." Izzy tried not to sound too hostile. "I'm helping the Inquisitor."

Cassandra made a small, snorting noise. "Does that not amount to the same thing?"

"No. No, it doesn't." Izzy clenched her teeth. "I'm helping a friend. That's what I do. I'm no leader and I don't do organizations. You ought to be glad you ended up with Hugh instead of me."

"That may actually be true." Cassandra nodded thoughtfully. "A friend, you say."

"Yes, a friend." Izzy was beginning to lose patience. "What exactly are you trying to insinuate, Seeker?"

"I am not in the habit of insinuating things, Champion." The Seeker's voice had taken on a cutting edge. "Let me be as plain as I can be, then: I would like to know what your intentions are regarding Inquisitor Trevelyan."

"Why, are you his mother?" Izzy snapped out the words without thinking. "And for Andraste's sake, stop calling me _Champion_. The name is Hawke."

"Very well, Hawke." Cassandra seemed unperturbed by her outburst. "No, I am not his mother. But as one of his senior advisors, it is my duty to make sure his position is not compromised. Hugh Trevelyan has handled the Inquisition's affairs admirably so far. I would hate to see his work undone by an ill-advised dalliance."

"I see." Izzy was quietly fuming now. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that. Fortunately, Hugh is capable of making his own decisions. Let's wait and see whether he feels the same, shall we?"

"Of course." Reining in her horse, Cassandra allowed herself to fall back. "We shall speak again at some other time."

"Or maybe not," Izzy muttered under her breath. _Goodness! As if I was such a danger to his reputation!_

Sure, she was an apostate, and she understood that her association with Anders made her automatically suspect, but it wasn't as if she had done any of it on purpose, right? She'd tried so hard to do the right thing, back in Kirkwall. Was it her fault that it had all come to nothing?

One thing was certain. She wouldn't let _Seeker Pentaghast_ scare her off. So what if she thought Izzy was a bad influence on her precious Inquisitor? He was a grown man, and it would do him good to loosen up a bit. Honestly, all those people were far too serious for their own good.

Raising her chin, Izzy spurred her horse forward to catch up with Varric. A little chat with him was bound to cheer her up.

* * *

The journey seemed to take forever, and soon Izzy was getting bored with their travel routine. They rode all day, with just a quick break for lunch, and they spent the nights in various roadside inns. Hugh had insisted that it was too cold for camping, though he himself didn't seem to mind the rough weather. _Probably trying to be a gentleman again._

His manner toward Izzy was impeccably polite. Invariably, he left the nicer rooms at the inns to her and Cassandra, while he slept in the common room with the others. Almost every night, he joined her for a drink, an hour of quiet conversation, sometimes a game of chess. Never more than that, even though he was as friendly as he could be, and more than once she caught him looking longingly at her when he thought she wouldn't notice. It was as if he'd drawn an invisible line in the sand between them, and was determined not to cross it.

Finally, she had had enough. Two days before they were to arrive at the outskirts of the Crestwood, she opened the door for him clad in nothing but a thin shift, doing her best to smile alluringly.

Hugh took a quick step back, blushing furiously. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't-" Then something seemed to dawn on him, and he hesitated, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Or is this… Is this an attempt at seduction?"

"Well, if you have to ask, then it's clearly failing miserably." Izzy kept her tone light, but she was mad at herself. Had she really misinterpreted the signs so badly? Unable to meet his eyes, she stared at the floor. "I'm sorry. I should have realized you don't-"

"Izzy." Suddenly, he was right before her, lifting her chin to make her look at him, and Maker, his eyes were impossibly dark. "It's not." His voice had dropped, too, and it made her knees go weak. "It's not failing at all," he elaborated when she looked at him in confusion.

Slowly, still holding her gaze, he took her hand and raised it to his lips, breathing a kiss on her wrist, where her pulse was beating madly against the transparent skin. She responded with a full-body shudder, and just for a heartbeat a smile flitted across his features before he turned serious again.

"You think I don't want you?" Another kiss, to her palm this time. "Sweet Andraste, Izzy, I want you more than I’ve wanted anyone in a long time."

"You have a funny way of showing it." Her voice was so hoarse she automatically cleared her throat.

"I'm sorry." Hugh sounded so earnest and sober that it cut at her heartstrings. "Look, how can I explain… I know you think I'm stiff and formal, and boring. And it's true. I am all that, whereas you… You're funny and crazy and adorable, and so very much alive. We could never-"

"That's not true!" Izzy vigorously shook her head. "I don't think you're boring. A tad too worried about what other people think, but-"

"But don't you see?" He sighed, sounding tired and resigned. "That's just who I am. I can't just pretend not to care. I could never be like you. We're simply too different, you and I, and the way things are, I can't really see us having a future together."

"Oh damn it, Hugh!" Huffing in exasperation, she grabbed his left hand and turned it so she could trace the mark on it with her fingers. " _You_ worry about the future? Look, right now, it doesn't look as if any of us have got much of a future, no matter what we do. Have you considered _that_?"

"I have." He nodded. "And yet, I find myself unable to treat this as just a casual diversion. I don't want to end up hurting us both."

"I don't care." She tossed back her head in a gesture of sheer defiance. "I've been hurt too many times to count and I can take it. And you're not leaving me like this again, you hear me? I'm done waiting for you to make up your mind."

"All right." Hugh’s lips set in a grim line, but his eyes were bright with happiness.

Before she could process what he was doing, he pushed her back so she came to sit on the edge of the bed, and then he was kneeling on the floor before her, kissing her, like he had at First Day, deep and hungry. And he tasted so good, and his lips were so soft, and she couldn't get enough of them. Moaning into his mouth, she gave herself up completely to his touch, and already his hands were roaming all over her body, teasing her nipples through the thin fabric of her shift, tugging at the hem of the garment, as if he couldn't wait to feel her skin. Which would be understandable because Izzy was rapidly losing patience as well.

His hands settled on her thighs, warm and sure, but he made sure to catch her gaze before he went further, waiting for her to nod, before he pushed the shift up and out of the way, spreading her legs wide. And then, with a swiftness that left her entirely breathless, he put his mouth on her and breathed a kiss against her core.

"Sweet Andraste, Hugh!" She pushed herself up on her elbows, because she had to see it to believe it: Hugh Trevelyan, the mighty Inquisitor, on his knees between her legs, worshipping her with his mouth. It was a sight she could get used to.

He smiled up at her, a small, mischievous smile, and then he really put his tongue to work, and the world went away for a moment. Izzy wasn't sure whether she gasped or moaned or cried out, but Maker, it felt good! _Maybe Anders' stories about his adventures in the Circle were true, after all,_ a tiny voice whispered in the back of her head. For all he'd been hard to persuade, Hugh was clearly no innocent. He knew what he was doing, and he was doing it with considerable enthusiasm.

Since Hugh seemed in no hurry to proceed to other pursuits, Izzy decided to go with the flow. Lying back, she allowed herself the luxury of enjoying every single moment of this. Hugh was thorough, exploring every inch of her, watching her reactions carefully, moving on to a new spot, a new caress, whenever she showed the slightest sign of discomfort. And Izzy felt her pleasure build, slowly but steadily, vibrating through every fibre of her body, soft and warm and all-encompassing, and she already knew her climax would be overwhelming when it came.

He paused briefly, but only to slide two fingers slowly inside her, curling them just so to add yet another layer of sensation, and then his mouth was back, insistent, relentless, endlessly patient. _So fucking good_. By the time she finally clenched around his fingers, moaning and shivering, he had so thoroughly lavished her with caresses that every nerve in her body responded, every inch of her skin buzzed with sheer, sweet delight. It was, quite honestly, the most amazing orgasm she'd had in _years_.

When she could breathe again, she gave him her most dazzling smile. "Thanks. That was amazing."

He sat back on his haunches, smiling back affectionately. "My pleasure." He sounded utterly sincere.

"Now…" Slowly, Izzy sat up, motioning for him to get to his feet.

He did so, wincing a bit when he stretched his legs.

Now that he was standing, Izzy had a lovely view of the bulge in his pants, and she unconsciously licked her lips. "Will you let me return the favour?"

Slowly, she ran her hand along the seam of his breeches, cupping him carefully, savouring the feel of him. Without waiting for his reply, she reached for his laces, starting to untie them.

He caught her hand, gazing earnestly at her. "You don't have to."

"But I want to." She smiled up at him, enjoying the way he was trembling under her touch.

Moments later, he was bare, and she could look her fill. His cock was just as lovely as she remembered it, long and just thick enough, and when she licked him, slowly and gently at first, he tasted so good, too, fresh, yet musky with desire.

Hugh was quiet, very quiet, and when she looked up at him, she noticed he was biting his lower lip hard. He was still almost fully dressed, too, and for a moment she had the most vivid image of a younger Hugh, chasing illicit pleasures in hidden corners of the Circle, just as Anders had always described it. Always fearing to be caught, never allowing himself to relax, to let go.

Pulling back, she smiled up at him, slowly stroking up and down his length.

"Take off your clothes. Please," she added when he hesitated.

He swallowed briefly, but his hands were already reaching for the fastenings of his shirt, and moments later, it came off, sliding off his strong shoulders. And Maker, was it worth it, if only for the view. Not to mention the pleasure of running her hands over his flat stomach, feeling the muscles contract under her touch.

"Oh Maker." The tremor in his voice gave her a huge thrill. "I don't think I can-"

"Don't think. Just let me make you happy." Smiling, she took hold of his cock again. "I promise I'll do my best."

* * *

Hugh was lost for an answer. Fortunately, Izzy didn't expect one, just wrapped her lovely lips around him and sucked gently, destroying his ability to talk for good. It had been ages since he'd last been with a woman, and his own hand didn't compare to the feeling of Izzy's hot, sweet mouth around him. He'd dreamed of this for so long, and now it was _real_ and incredibly intense: the sound of her tiny gasps; the scent of her filling the room; her taste still coating his lips.

Giving her pleasure, making her moan, had been such a huge thrill, more so than he had anticipated. Maybe it was all those times she'd made fun of his formal demeanour that had left him with such a strong urge to show her another side of himself, to prove that he knew how to make her scream. Judging from the gleam in her eyes, she had taken it as a challenge, setting out to make him undone just as much as he had her. He had no doubt she would succeed.

Hugh shivered. It felt weird to be naked with her, open and vulnerable, more than he was used to, but at the same time, it was kind of nice. _Intimate_. It also meant that his view of what she was doing to him was unimpeded. And it was so very exciting to watch her as she pleasured him: her lips, red and full and bruised, sliding along the length of his cock; her eyelids fluttering as she focussed on him; her cheeks hollowing as she sucked him in deeper… Maker, it was so overwhelming, and it all felt so good, so perfect that he was dizzy with it.

For the longest time, he tried to be considerate, to keep as still as he possibly could, to avoid choking her, but Izzy kept urging him on, and when her hand eventually sneaked behind his balls to caress the soft, sensitive skin there, he lost it. He no longer knew nor cared what he looked like or what noises he made. All he knew was the pleasure racing through his veins, culminating in a single, glorious moment of pure bliss. Dimly, he was aware that he should have warned her, but by the time he remembered his manners, it was already too late.

Izzy didn't seem to mind, fortunately. Gently, she suckled him through it, her hands on the back of his thighs to steady him, then hummed softly around him before she let go. Waving aside his incoherent professions of gratitude, she lay back on the bed and patted the mattress next to her.

"Come here." She sounded lazy and replete. "You look a bit weak in the knees."

He hesitated. Surely, if he didn't return to the common room soon, the others would notice his prolonged absence and put two and two together. And for all he'd come to care for Izzy, he wasn't sure he wanted that. Then again, she was right. He _did_ feel a bit wobbly. With a grateful sigh, he dropped on the bed next to her and allowed her to drag the blanket over them both. It felt nice, warm and cozy, and Hugh closed his eyes, enjoying the pleasant haze enveloping his mind.

"You look much better." Izzy yawned, snuggling up to him. "You know, much as I appreciate a man with self-control, there _is_ a limit. All that tension can't possibly be good for you."

Hugh stiffened all over. Her smug tone bothered him at least as much as her actual words. "Is that all this was, then? Just a means to relieve tension?"

Izzy was far too close to miss his change of mood, of course. "That depends. Is that all you want it to be?" She sounded wary.

His pride almost got the better of him. He'd already opened his mouth to tell her that he didn't care, that they were going to part ways soon, anyway, and that there was no point in reading too much into what had happened. But just as he was about to ruin it all, he heard it – a small noise, almost below the edge of hearing, a stifled sigh or maybe a sob, and he realized she was just as scared as he was. Scared of rejection, or scared of commitment, or maybe of both at the same time.

Breathing deeply, he tried to collect his thoughts. Everything he'd told her earlier was true, no doubt about it. They were so different, and if they chose to pursue this… whatever it was, their path wouldn't be easy. She could make him so _angry_ , destroying his careful composure with just a smile or a few words, driving him mad with jealousy and irritation. And he couldn't afford this kind of distraction, not with the fate of the whole world depending on him and his actions.

And yet… He needed to be honest with her. "I… I want more, Izzy." His voice sounded foreign to him, small and tentative. "I want to get to know you better. I want to know all about you. And I want to be there for you, as much as I can." He cleared his throat. "But I-"

"Shhh." Twisting in his arms, she shushed him with her finger. "You're quite adorable, you know? I think…" Thoughtfully, she chewed her lower lip. "I think I could fall in love with you, if I'm not careful."

"When have you ever been careful?" The words left his lips before he had time to think them through.

Izzy seemed stunned for a moment, but then she laughed aloud. "I told him you had a sense of humour," she said cryptically, refusing to elaborate, when he looked at her in confusion. "Now, you'd better leave. I'd love to snuggle a little longer, but we have to be back on the road early tomorrow. And if you stay…" She wiggled her hips, making him gasp as she brushed against him. "We won't get any sleep, I'm afraid."

He nodded, too confused to come up with a witty reply. Quickly, he got out of bed and reached for his clothes.

She watched him quietly, smiling when he finished dressing and bent down to kiss her good-night. "Sleep well, Hugh. And thank you. For everything."

"You, too. Good night." As he made his way down the stairs, his head was spinning. _I could fall in love with you_ , she'd said. He had a sneaking suspicion that for once, he was one step ahead of her.

 


	5. Chapter 5

There were no further opportunities to be alone and undisturbed for the rest of the journey, and Hugh was both disappointed and relieved. Disappointed, because being with Izzy had been so good, so amazing and he wanted more. And relieved, because the delay gave him a little more time to come to terms with his feelings for her.

He kept watching her from afar, trying to overhear snatches of conversation as she chatted with Varric. Some part of him envied the dwarf for his easy familiarity with her, the way he could send her off into fits of laughter with just a few cryptic remarks.

"I wonder what's so funny." Next to him, Cassandra voiced his thoughts, her expression sour and disapproving. She still didn't trust Varric, and so far, Hugh hadn't been able to allay her suspicions.

"Probably just some silly joke or other." He kept his tone light. "You know what they're like."

"I do indeed." Cassandra snorted. "You know what Hawke said to me the other night? 'How dare you kidnap my oldest friend, Seeker? I should have your head on a pike for that alone.'" Cassandra's imitation of Izzy's provocative tone was surprisingly accurate, and Hugh could practically hear her in his head.

"Your head on a pike?" He bit back a smile. "I'd like to see her try."

"Would you, now?" Cassandra still sounded gruff, but her expression had softened a little, and he knew she was no longer quite as angry. "Don't be too sure. I am told it's not wise to underestimate Hawke."

"Well, all things considered, it's probably a good thing we're all fighting on the same side." Hugh inclined his head respectfully in the Seeker's direction. "And I hope we can keep it that way."

"Of course we can." Cassandra sat up straight in the saddle. "I'm sorry to have bothered you with our squabbles, Inquisitor."

"It's no bother." He smiled at her, spurring his horse onward. "But, we should move on now. We have a lot to do."

That last thought turned out to be truer than he'd anticipated. As they made their way across the Crestwood, it quickly became clear that all was not well in this idyllic Fereldan landscape. It took them a while to find the cave where they were supposed to meet Izzy's Warden friend, and while they were looking, Hugh kept adding items to his mental list of 'things the Inquisition would have to take care of': rifts and demons; gangs of bandits, some of which had even managed to take hold of a proper keep; aggressive wyverns. Not to mention his growing suspicion that the mayor of Crestwood village was hiding some unpleasant secret, and of course, the huge dragon laying waste to the farmlands in the South.

Still, all that would have to wait. Following Izzy's slightly chaotic directions, they finally managed to locate the cave entrance and entered a damp, winding tunnel, overgrown with deep mushrooms and smelling of rot. Thankfully, it got better the further they progressed, until they found themselves face to face with a rough wooden door set into the tunnel walls.

"Inquisitor. Let me go first." Gripping her axe tightly, Cassandra kicked the door open with her heavily booted right foot.

It swung inward on well-oiled hinges, revealing a small space lit by a campfire and several torches. Shadows were hovering in the back, and one of them advanced, drawing a large sword and raising his shield as they approached.

"Halt. Who's there?" The man was wearing heavy armour and a blue tunic, and he was tall and broad-shouldered enough to cut quite an imposing figure. Cassandra would probably have been able to take him on by herself, but Hugh was by no means sure of that.

Fortunately, they weren't here to fight. Pushing past them, Izzy beamed at the man. "Alistair! It's me, and I've brought the Inquisitor with me."

"Iz!" Tossing aside his shield, the man pulled Izzy into a bear hug, laughing as he did so. "Maker, I've missed you. What kept you so long?"

Hugh felt a brief pang at the sight of their enthusiastic embrace. Izzy had called the Warden her 'friend', but the whole scenario was looking a lot more than just _friendly_ , and he couldn't help wondering what exactly their relationship was.

But Izzy's next words drove his incipient jealousy straight from his mind. "Hugh. Meet Alistair Theirin. Alistair, this is Hugh Trevelyan, the famed Inquisitor."

"Alistair Theirin? _The_ Alistair?" Hugh didn't bother to hide the awe in his voice. "The one who fought with the Hero of Ferelden?" Next to him, he heard Cassandra gasp softly. Clearly, she wasn't immune to hero worship either.

Alistair blushed all over, suddenly looking a lot younger than his years. "I need to change my name. Yes, that was me."

"It's an honour to meet you." Hugh inclined his head, feeling his heart beat faster. "Truly."

_Alistair Theirin_. Hugh couldn't believe it. It was like meeting the hero of one of the bedtime stories his nurse used to tell him, Calenhad or Hafter, or Dane. And yet, Alistair looked… normal, for want of a better word, friendly and a little goofy, even if he was good-looking and he had to be a skilled warrior.

"The honour is mine, Inquisitor." Alistair bowed back, his expression serious, but then a boyish smile flitted across his features as he turned to Izzy again. "I have a surprise for you, Iz."

"A surprise?" Izzy frowned. "What-" Just then another of the shadows at the back of the cave moved, and a young woman stepped into the light. "Bethany!"

Hugh watched, while Izzy embraced the newcomer with a happy squeal. The woman was clad in a lighter version of Alistair's blue armour, and she had a staff strapped to her back. _Another Warden, but this one's a mage_. She was small and petite, with a mane of raven black hair down her shoulders, but her bright blue eyes were familiar. In fact, Hugh realized, she looked very much like a younger version of Izzy. _Her sister, maybe?_

Izzy was still holding her tightly, as if she was afraid to let go of her again, but at the same time she turned a threatening glare on Alistair. "I _told_ you not to bring her. It's far too dangerous. What were you _thinking_?" _Yes. Definitely her sister._ Izzy sounded so fiercely protective that Hugh involuntarily took a small step back.

But Alistair just shook his head, undaunted. "She would have been in far greater danger elsewhere, Iz. What with the new orders from Orlais-" He broke off. "Trust me. She's safer here, with us."

Izzy's eyes narrowed, but she finally let go of Bethany. "You'll have to tell us more. But first…" She turned to Hugh. "This is my sister Bethany, Hugh. Don't be fooled by her pretty face. She's one of the strongest battlemages I know."

Hugh made the appropriate responses, introducing everyone. Bethany greeted Varric with a hug and Cassandra with a wary smile, and soon they were all settled around the fireplace.

They spent a memorable evening, talking about the topics that affected all of them: mages, Templars, red lyrium, and of course Corypheus. When Alistair explained that all the Wardens had begun to hear the Calling, the call of the Archdemon, summoning them to their death in the Deep Roads, Izzy made a small, distressed noise, grabbing her sister's hand.

But Alistair shook his head. "It's not a true Calling, Iz. It's a plot by Corypheus. I'm certain of it, even if the other Wardens refuse to listen to me." He sighed. "I'm afraid some of them don't think very highly of me."

Hugh raised a surprised eyebrow, but didn't comment. The conversation turned back to Corypheus and what needed to be done. They agreed to meet again soon, in the Western Approach where, according to Alistair, some sort of sinister ritual involving the Wardens was about to be arranged.

With all this settled, Izzy and Bethany withdrew into a quiet corner to chat, while Cassandra went off to check on their entourage. Hugh remained at the fireside with Alistair, listening to his stories of the Blight, but over and over, his gaze kept returning to the two sisters. They made such a striking pair, with their contrasting colouring, and their bright, happy smiles. Bethany seemed to be younger than Izzy by quite a few years, and strictly speaking, she was probably the prettier of the two, but there was a certain steeliness behind that sweet little face which Hugh found a little unsettling.

Alistair noticed him looking and smiled affectionately. "You're in love with Izzy." It wasn't a question, and when Hugh opened his mouth to reply, Alistair just chuckled. "Hey, you don't need to explain it to _me_. As far as I'm concerned, falling for a Hawke woman is the most natural thing in the world."

_Ah_. Hugh had wondered, but Alistair's words confirmed that he and Bethany were a couple. "They are special," was all he said aloud.

"They are," Alistair affirmed. "There's a lot more to Iz than meets the eye. She saved my life, you know." When Hugh looked at him questioningly, he elaborated. "After the Blight, I… wasn't in a good place. I was angry at the Hero for pardoning Loghain, so very angry, and I got… lost for a while. I was a mess. Izzy found me in a tavern in Kirkwall, and took me home with her. She was there for me, all the time, while I struggled to sober up and get my life back together." His tone was quiet and serious. "I owe her so much. Iz rescued me from a life in the gutter. I had lost all self-respect, but she never stopped believing in me. I can never repay her for what she did for me."

"And Bethany?" Hugh was too curious not to ask.

Alistair didn't seem to mind. "I met her when she came back home to Kirkwall to visit her sister. We fell in love." He was silent for a moment, then he laughed softly. "So easy to say, and yet it's the most wondrous thing that's ever befallen me. Beth is so much more than I deserve. Anyway…" Alistair shook himself briefly. "She took me back with her, and I became a Warden again. And we were happy, until all this happened." He made a sweeping gesture that seemed to include the whole world.

Hugh wasn't sure what to reply, so he just nodded silently. A little while later, they all settled down for the night, spreading their bedrolls side by side in a circle around the fireplace. Soon, the cave grew quiet.

But Hugh couldn't sleep. He lay awake for what seemed like hours, staring up at the ceiling, trying to sort out all the new things he'd learned tonight. Meeting Alistair and Bethany had been enlightening in more ways than one, and he would need time to think, time to talk things over with his advisors, time to make up his mind. Yet first, he needed to sleep. His eyelids were growing heavy with exhaustion, and he was about to finally drift off, when he heard a soft moan, followed by a tiny giggle.

Involuntarily, he glanced around for the source of the noise. If he was not very much mistaken, it was coming from his left side, where Alistair and Bethany had snuggled up together under a shared blanket. And yes, when he strained his eyes, he could see them in the dim light coming from the dying fire, even if it was too dark to make out more than the vague outlines of their bodies under the blanket. Still, it was enough to remove all doubt about what they were doing.

Alistair was propped up on top of Bethany, his hips rolling slowly and patiently, and she was writhing under him, unable to suppress her sighs of pleasure. Against his will, Hugh felt his pulse speed up, and his cock grow hard with want. _What if I'd asked Izzy to share my bedroll, too? Would she have agreed?_ The thought came unbidden and it made him blush, but at the same time, it sent his arousal up another notch, and he nearly moaned aloud. Hugh felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He knew he should give them some privacy, he knew he should turn the other way, but he was afraid to give himself away if he moved now. _Damn it, I should never have looked._

Still, there was nothing to be done now. So he ended up just lying there, watching and waiting, burning with secret shame, but unable to take his eyes off them, until Alistair finished with a quick, sharp thrust, and Bethany arched up high under him with a last breathless sigh. And then Hugh waited some more, until they had grown quiet, and he could take care of himself, quickly and efficiently, muffling a groan as he spilled into his hand. It was well past midnight, when he finally fell asleep.

* * *

Izzy woke up early, wincing at the stiffness in her back as she wiggled out of her bedroll. _I'm getting too old for this shit_. Hugh still looked to be fast asleep, and Cassandra and Varric were nowhere to be seen, but Bethany and Alistair were busy stoking the fire and making tea. They both looked tired and worn out, and Izzy wondered whether they had gotten any sleep at all, what with the nightmares Alistair had told her about. _Not to mention their other nightly activities_. They had tried to be quiet, but Izzy had always been a light sleeper.

She accepted her mug of tea from Bethany with a grin and a wink. "Well, I'm glad to see the two of you are still going strong. Can't keep your hands off each other for a single night, eh?"

Alistair had overheard her words, and he was blushing furiously. Izzy almost pitied him. Almost.

But Bethany didn't bat an eyelid. "We waited until we thought everyone was asleep. And anyway, since when are you so interested in our love life?"

"Hey, it's all good." Izzy raised both hands in an appeasing gesture. "I get it. If I had the choice between horrible nightmares and lots and lots of vigorous sex, I'd choose the sex, too." She took a deep sip of her tea. "Wardens! I'm never quite sure whether to envy or to pity you."

"Right now, I'd go for pity, to be honest." Alistair's uncharacteristically sober tone made Izzy pause.

"Is it that bad?" Her chest constricted painfully. "But we can handle this together. I mean, whatever Corypheus is playing at, we can fix it, right? And once the fake Calling is gone, you can go back to business as usual. Chasing darkspawn, saving the world from the Blight… You know? The whole nine yards?"

"Provided there's still a world left to save by then," Bethany muttered.

"Hey." Alistair put down the pack he'd been rummaging in and pulled Bethany into his arms. "Stop that. We've been in tough situations before. Remember, I survived an Archdemon. And I didn't even have you by my side back then."

Bethany smiled up at him, and Izzy couldn't help but smile, too. They were so cute together, always looking out for each other. _Must be nice_. Sighing, Izzy stared down into the murky brown liquid sloshing around in her cup. Would she herself ever find someone who looked at her the way Alistair looked at her sister? She glanced over at Hugh's prone figure. Was he the one, maybe? It was far too early to tell, and anyway, not everyone ended up with their one true love, did they? Shaking herself out of her reverie, Izzy got to her feet and put the cup away.

"Are you going back to Skyhold with him?" Bethany tilted her head toward Hugh, raising a meaningful eyebrow.

Izzy shook her head. "No. Hugh can manage perfectly well without me. I'm staying with the two of you." It wasn't what she'd originally planned. In the normal course of events, she would have been only too happy to pursue her budding relationship with Hugh further. But if Bethany was in danger, if Corypheus' machinations were threatening her beloved little sister, Izzy wasn't about to let her out of her sight. "If you'll have me."

Squeezing Alistair's leather-clad thigh with one hand, Bethany exchanged a quick look with him, then nodded. "Of course you can come with us. We haven't had much of a chance to talk since Kirkwall, and I'm dying to hear what An-"

"Shhh." Izzy stopped her just in time, pointing toward the doorway where Cassandra had appeared. "Well, that's settled, then. When can you be ready to leave?"

* * *

They said their goodbyes in front of the cave, hurriedly, and with everyone looking on, so there was no chance for a moment in private, much to Hugh's chagrin. With a cheerful wave, Izzy got into the saddle and spurred her horse into a brisk trot, following the two Wardens around a bend in the road, all without a single glance back at him. And just like that, she was gone.

As they rode through the rolling hills of Crestwood, headed back toward the village and its murky past, Hugh kept telling himself that he shouldn't be surprised.

He had overheard part of her conversation with Bethany, early in the morning, while he was still struggling to wake up. _Hugh can manage perfectly well without me._ There had been no trace of regret in her tone, no hint of concern. And of course she was right. He could cope with her absence. It wasn't as if they were love-struck adolescents, pining after each other the moment one of them left the room. They were responsible adults – well at least he was, and they hadn't even talked of love yet, not really.

Still, it had hurt to hear her talk about him in such a blithe and airy manner, as if there was nothing at all between them, when he so desperately wanted there to be _something_. And blight it, he was going to miss her so much. He already missed her, the sound of her laughter, the sudden flash of her smile whenever he caught her eye.

_Always smiling, always laughing_. He shook his head in exasperation. Was there nothing she took seriously? And yet… Alistair's words the night before came back to him. _There's a lot more to Iz than meets the eye… She was there for me, all the time… I can never repay her._ Izzy Hawke wasn't half as flighty and superficial as she made herself out to be.

"Well, Inquisitor?" Varric's deep voice next to him startled him out of his train of thoughts. "What a ride, eh? Meeting the last of the Theirins, the great Alistair. A real hero, a household name. And I didn't even have to write a book about him to make him famous."

"Impressive," Hugh agreed absent-mindedly. "I was honoured to meet him."

"You and me both, Inquisitor." Varric snorted briefly. "And the Seeker just about fainted when she heard his name. Ah, well. Can't blame her. He seems to be a nice guy, too, don't you think? Just about good enough for our Sunshine."

"Sunshine?" Hugh had never managed to keep track of Varric's nicknames for everyone, but the context helped. "You mean Bethany Hawke?"

"Yup." Varric nodded. "Not looking quite so sunny anymore, now that she has to deal with all that Warden shit, but she's still a sweetheart. It was good to see her."

"You still miss your old companions from Kirkwall, don't you?" Hugh did his best to sound sympathetic.

He had read the _Tale of the Champion_ twice, and though he'd enjoyed Varric's prose, he couldn't quite fathom why Izzy Hawke had surrounded herself with such a strange assortment of followers. An escaped elven slave, a Dalish blood mage, a dissolute pirate queen, and a captain of the city guard. Not to mention a certain spirit-possessed apostate. Hugh couldn't even imagine what it must have been like to travel with such a disparate crowd. _They must have been at each other's throats half of the time._

"Yeah, believe it or not, I miss them." Varric seemed to have read his thoughts. "They were a crazy bunch, but they were my friends. Mind you, I'm mostly glad to have left Kirkwall behind. And anyway, most of them are no longer there. Time passes and things change, Inquisitor. Might as well enjoy the good things while they last."

And that, at least, was an idea he could get behind, Hugh thought, as they continued riding on in silence. _Seize the day._ _Who knows what tomorrow will bring?_


	6. Chapter 6

"Ugh." The Iron Bull was staring up at the desert ruins with undisguised loathing. "Those towers have 'Vint' written all over them, eh, boss?"

Hugh made a non-committal noise. "Well, they are certainly designed to impress, wouldn't you say? Even if there's not much left of them."

"Pah." Bull spit over his shoulder. "Designed to terrify, more likely. And of course there's not much left. That's Vints for you. Get some slaves for the grind work and a mage or two to do the heavy lifting, and they can raise a few walls quickly enough. But when it comes to durability, their magic can't hold a candle to good solid dwarven engineering."

"You know, I should have thought your opinion of those _Vints_ would have improved a little by now." Hugh shook his head. "What with you and Dorian-"

"Dorian would probably agree with me." Bull threw him a sly look. "He's not all that fond of his countrymen himself. Besides…" His grin took on a decidedly suggestive note. "We don't really spend a lot of time discussing architecture, as a rule. Lots of better things to do, if you catch my meaning."

"Fair enough." Hugh cleared his throat. "Anyway, this is where we agreed to meet the Wardens. And it looks like a decent enough spot to camp, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, yeah." Bull nodded. "But shouldn't that be the Wardens _and Hawke_? She's coming with them, right?"

"Yes, she is." Hugh did his best to sound casual, even though he knew it wouldn't fool Bull. There was a reason he'd been picked for the Ben-Hassrath, after all. "Alistair suggested we meet here so that we can discuss our plans before setting out for the Tower tomorrow." He sighed. "We need to prevent this ritual. The Wardens don't deserve this."

"No, they don't," Bull agreed. "They tend to be a bit mopey, but they work hard for a good cause, and they've devoted their life to it. Gotta respect that." He raised his axe. "Don't worry, boss. Whenever you need an ass kicked, The Iron Bull is with you."

"That’s good to know." And it was, Hugh realized. Bull's solid presence at his side would be a big help.

Izzy and the Wardens arrived shortly before nightfall, riding into camp as everyone was settling down for the night. Hugh was discussing guard rotation with Scout Harding, but the moment he set eyes on Izzy he completely forgot what he'd been about to say. He was distantly aware of Harding's low amused chuckle, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the smile on Izzy's face, her low laugh as she slid from the back of her horse straight into his arms, the scent of her hair as he buried his face in it. She was warm and alive and lovely, and when she tilted back her head, he threw all his usual reserve to the wind, and kissed her on the lips, holding her tight to his body.

Izzy laughed again, a sound of sheer joy, but at the same time she flinched a little and pulled back from his embrace.

"Are you hurt?" Only now did he notice the bandage wrapped around her upper arm.

"It's nothing." Izzy shrugged. "Beth's worse off. Actually, I'd be grateful if your healers could take a look at her hand. She has a nasty burn, and her wrist seems to be sprained."

"Of course." He gestured for one of the field surgeons to come over. "What happened?"

"We ran into some stray Red Templars on the Sand Flats." Izzy's grin was fierce. "They thought we'd be easy pickings, but they changed their minds soon enough, when Alistair gave them a taste of their own medicine."

"What do you mean?" Hugh couldn't quite follow.

"He trained as a Templar before he became a Warden." Izzy looked fondly over at Alistair, who was helping Bethany off her horse. "Didn't you know?"

"No, I didn't." _But it explains a lot_. Hugh had wondered why the way Alistair carried himself had seemed so familiar, right from the start. If Alistair indeed had had Templar training… Hugh had spent the better part of his life surrounded by Templars in the Circle, and he knew all their little habits and peculiarities. "I ought to have noticed, really."

"Well, you haven't seen him fight. Yet. But that will change soon enough." Again that ferocious smile. Whatever had happened back there on the road, it had brought out a side in Izzy that he hadn't seen before. Hugh wasn't quite sure whether he was worried or aroused by it.

Before he could make up his mind, the surgeon arrived and Hugh led him over to Bethany, whose usual sunny smile was more than a little pained. Her hand did look bad, the skin covered in red, angry blisters, and she was holding it at an awkward angle. Hugh left both sisters in the able hands of the healer and returned to his duties.

It was almost two hours later when he finally called it a day, and the sun had gone down in the meantime. The camp was quiet, and Izzy was nowhere to be seen, so Hugh decided to go for a walk among the ruins. It was nice to have a few moments to himself, a break from his many responsibilities. The desert at night possessed its own kind of strange beauty, cold and distant and deadly, but somehow peaceful at the same time.

He found a good spot among the ruined ramparts of an ancient watchtower, where he could stand in the shadows and look out over the stark, desolate landscape. The silvery light of the moon lent an eerie, dreamlike quality to the scene. Nothing at all seemed to move in the wide expanse of sand, not even a desert fox or a mouse. It was so quiet that Hugh had almost fallen into a kind of trance, when suddenly someone took hold of him from behind, wrapping their arms around his middle.

His hands went up in a defensive gesture, and before he could control his reaction, sparks were already flying from his fingertips. It was a reflex, purely instinctual, with no conscious thought behind it, but Izzy – because of course it was Izzy who had found him – had no problem dealing with it. Her shield spell was up before he could actually hurt her, and it reflected his attack right back at him.

"Ouch!" With a pained grimace, Hugh rubbed his fingertips. They were burning and tingling and he felt a strong urge to douse them in cold water, even though he knew it wouldn't help. "You know, you really shouldn't sneak up on people like that."

"I'm sorry." Izzy didn't sound repentant, and she hadn't taken her hands off his waist. "I just wanted to talk. Did you miss me?"

"Maker, yes." He didn't bother to hide the emotion in his voice. "So much."

Her hand trailed lower, caressing him through the fabric of his robes, and his cock perked up with embarrassing swiftness. "Mmmhmm, I can tell."

Hugh felt a blush rise to his cheeks. "I didn't mean-"

"Shhh. I know." She tightened her fingers around his length, effectively silencing him. "But maybe, just maybe, you missed this as well, didn't you?"

Groaning, he leaned back against her slight frame, already unsteady on his legs. "Damn it, Izzy, if anyone sees us here-"

"We're all alone. Besides, I don't care. I've missed you too." Her hand had found its way between the folds of his robe, baring him to the cool night air, and he shivered involuntarily. "Blasted desert." Her voice was muffled against his back. "Too hot for clothes during the day, and too cold to get naked at night. Ah, well. We'll have to make do."

Again, her nimble fingers closed around him, and now that she had better access, she had him reduced to a whimpering mess within minutes. Her hand was so soft, and yet so insistent, and she kept up a steady rhythm, with just enough variation to keep it interesting. Hugh couldn't even remember the last time anybody had touched him like this, and the thought that they were out here, in the open, where anyone who happened to walk by would see what they were doing, added an unexpected thrill to every caress.

"You feel so good." Panting, Izzy gripped him even tighter. "I've been dreaming of you, you know? Every night, since Crestwood." Hugh moaned helplessly, turned on beyond belief by this admission. "Your mouth, at first, your kisses, your lips on me… Your hands, too. You have marvellous hands, you know.” Izzy was pressed tightly to his back, and her voice was shaky. "And then your cock, deep inside me, as you were making love to me, and it was so good Hugh, so incredibly good."

"You really dreamt of me?" He had to force the words out between clenched teeth, because he was close now, so very close.

"Over and over." Izzy laughed, a small, heady laugh, full of genuine joy. "Every night, and every morning I woke up _aching_ for you." Again, her grip tightened as her voice dropped to a whisper. " _Soaked."_

It was her words that did it, her words and the images they evoked, far more than her caresses, skilled as they were. Hugh came so hard that his whole body shook with the force of it, came with a muffled curse, biting the heel of his hand to keep the noise down.

Izzy stroked him through it, her touch light as a feather now, making soothing noises until he'd recovered enough to twist around and kiss her.

"Sweet Andraste, Izzy. You are completely crazy." He was still trembling.

"Aw, come on. You liked it." She ran her hand affectionately down his back.

"'Liked' is an understatement," he growled. "Now…"

Izzy was wearing leather armour, and it was quite the challenge to loosen the straps enough so he could get his hands on her, but somehow he managed. And she was wet and wanting, just like she had said, and it was such a heady feeling, to know that she craved this just as much as he did. Sliding two fingers deep inside her, he thrust roughly, and Izzy responded with a breathless whimper.

"I'm sorry." He bit his lip, wishing he had the time to be more considerate.

"Don't be. It's all good." Izzy was moving into his grip, already pulsing around him, her eyes feverish and her lips moist and half open. "Oh Maker, Hugh, please don't stop."

"I won't." Another thrust, and yet another, and she was whining in his ear. His thumb found her sweet spot, and he circled it gently, even as his fingers spread her further open. "Sweet, Andraste, Izzy, I _want_ you."

"I want you too. Please Hugh, please, I-" Burying her face against his neck, she keened softly, her whole body taut as a rope.

"Shhh." Carefully, with the utmost control, he sent a tiny spark of energy to his fingertips.

And Izzy came, came sobbing his name, clenching tightly around his fingers, her whole body shuddering convulsively as the pleasure tore through it. He had to steady her with his free hand to keep her on her feet, and the knowledge that he had done this to her, he had made her feel like this, made him light-headed, too.

"Maker, Izzy, I-" Hugh almost said the words, but something made him hesitate. "You're amazing."

"You're not so bad yourself." He could hear the smile in her voice. "Thank you."

They arranged their clothes into some semblance of decency, but Izzy remained in his arms, apparently unwilling to leave him for the night. He didn't mind. It was nice to be here with her, holding her, keeping her warm.

"How is Bethany?" He breathed a kiss on her head.

"Better." Izzy sighed. "Still… If only Anders were here. _He'd_ have her back to form in no time at all."

"Is he really such a good healer?" Varric’s praise for Anders’ talents had been voluble, but then again Hugh knew the dwarf was prone to exaggeration.

"Oh, yes." Izzy laughed softly. "Anders is… brimful of magical talent, and at the same time patient and thorough. He's pretty good at elemental spells, too, but healing is his real strength. It's hard to explain, but the moment he gets his hands on you, you know you'll be fine." There was a world of affection in her tone. "Anders is a gentle soul, Hugh. He cares about people."

_And yet he had no scruples killing hundreds of them for his so-called ideals._ Which was a fact Izzy seemed happy to ignore in her assessment of her friend. Or… had he been more than a friend? "You and Anders, were you lovers?" Hugh wasn't sure whether she'd resent the question, but he had to know.

Izzy laughed again. "No. Never. Not for lack of trying on his part, mind you. But back then, in Kirkwall, I wasn't interested in anything serious. Too complicated, and my life was enough of a mess as it was. Besides, Fenris wouldn't have approved at all, and with everyone living at such close quarters… Nah. Not worth the trouble."

"So, Fenris… that's the elf, right? The escaped slave from Tevinter." Hugh still had a hard time getting all her old companions straight.

"Yeah, him. Couldn't make up his mind to make love to me, but went mad with jealousy whenever Anders looked my way." Izzy sighed. "It just seemed easier not to get involved with either of them."

"But you-" He broke off, blushing. "Sorry. I just can't imagine you living like a chantry sister for all those years." After all, she was clearly quite experienced, and she had seemed to enjoy their encounters quite a lot so far.

Izzy shrugged. "I didn't. There was the occasional fling, don't you worry. Smugglers, pirates, city officials… even a cute young Templar, once. But it was just sex. No heartbreak, no fuss. And I preferred it that way."

"And now?" He had to ask. "Do you still wish to avoid that kind of trouble?"

"I'm not sure." Izzy turned in his arms and met his gaze, her lips curving up in a soft smile. "I'm really not sure. This time, it just might be worth it."

* * *

Izzy felt sick. She had seen her fair share of blood and gore, but the carnage Livius Erimond had wreaked in the old ritual tower was right up there with the worst she'd ever witnessed. So many Wardens senselessly slaughtered, so much waste, so much sheer _evil_. The urge to slap Erimond's smug grin off his face had been strong, but the bastard had escaped before they could get at him. _But we will. We will._

"That bastard!" Alistair echoed her thoughts. He, too, was pale and shaken, but at the same time, Izzy had never seen him so angry. The cold fury in his eyes chilled her to the bone, and suddenly she was glad Bethany hadn't come along.

Her sister had stayed behind in camp, though it had taken some persuasion. Bethany had been determined to fight at their side, no matter how much pain she was in. But in the end, Alistair had put his foot down, pointing out that she couldn't even hold her staff properly yet. She had demurred, then, and Izzy was secretly glad of it, though she had outwardly supported her sister's show of independence. Scout Harding had agreed to keep Bethany company until they returned. The little scout was fascinated by her tales of Wardens and darkspawn, and she would make sure Bethany didn't overexert herself while she was waiting.

And anyway, Izzy mused, it wasn't as if Beth's presence would have made a difference. By the time they'd arrived, it had already been too late for most of the Wardens. They had already been drained of blood to feed a host of angry demons, or turned into possessed abominations. And they had done so of their own free will, blinded by Livius' empty words, his talk of noble sacrifice and an end to all blights. _How could they have been so Maker-damned stupid?_

In the end, they'd had to kill them all. Every single Warden in the tower, and Izzy would never forget the look on Alistair's face as he slew his former comrades, one by one, with ruthless, methodical precision. It had been a tough fight, even with the help of Bull's axe and Varric's precious Bianca, but they had prevailed. _But Erimond got away._

"Izzy. Oh Maker, how could they have allowed this to happen?" Alistair's eyes were full of unshed tears. "What was wrong with them? If Duncan had seen this, he would have-" He broke off, his voice vibrating with pain and frustration.

"I know." Izzy kept her voice as gentle as she could, even though she felt much the same. "I know, Alistair. I'm sorry."

He stared at her for a moment, eyes unseeing, then turned away and walked away from the bloodshed, back to the gate, where he remained, staring into the distance as if he could find answers out there in the desert.

"Izzy. I'm so very sorry." Hugh looked defeated, for the first time since she'd met him. "I wish we could have done more."

"It wasn't your fault." Suddenly, she felt very tired. "There was nothing we could have done."

And that was such a very familiar feeling, wasn't it? Once again, she'd done her best to save those in peril, and once again, she'd failed. Just like Kirkwall, really. Would she ever be able to truly make a difference? Or was she doomed to make things worse whenever she tried to help?

"Izzy?" Hugh still sounded weary, but he reached out to her, his hand supporting her elbow, and somehow that simple, light touch was the only thing keeping her upright. "Are you all right?"

"No." She shook her head, but then she took a deep breath and met his gaze. "But I will be. Once we've hunted Erimond down and put an end to his schemes."

"That's the spirit." Hugh nodded, but his expression remained serious.

"What about you?" She gestured toward his left hand. Erimond had done _something_ to the mark on his palm, and it had looked exceedingly painful.

"I'm good." He shrugged it off. "Whatever Erimond tried to do, it backfired on him. And thanks to his hubris, I now know a little more about the mark. The _anchor_ , he called it, and it seems Corypheus wanted it as a means to access the Fade."

"Huh?" Izzy was too agitated to follow his thoughts right now, but what he was saying sounded important.

"We can discuss it later." Hugh turned to face Alistair who had returned from his silent vigil. "What's next? Any ideas?"

"I think I know where they are." Alistair seemed to have regained some composure. "There's an abandoned Warden fortress nearby, called Adamant. I bet that's where Erimond has fled to."

"Yes." Izzy nodded. "That makes sense. We can scout it out together, if you want."

"Be careful." Hugh looked so sincerely concerned that it made her heart beat faster, despite everything they'd just been through. "I've heard of that place, and it's dangerous. The Veil is thin there, they say."

"Is it?" Izzy raised an eyebrow. "Then we may have to take a small detour on our way there." Alistair opened his mouth, but she silenced him with a significant look. "It's important, or I wouldn't waste any time on it. Trust me."

Alistair nodded, his lips set in a thin line.

Hugh looked curious, but thankfully, he refrained from asking further questions. "All right. Let's get back to camp now. We're all exhausted and need to rest." He was using his Inquisitor voice again, calm and authoritative, and for once, Izzy was grateful for it and didn't feel the urge to mock him.

"Yes. And Beth will be worrying where we are." Alistair rubbed his eyes with a weary sigh. "I wish I didn't have to tell her about all of this."

"You and me both." Gently taking his arm, Izzy led him toward the path. "Come on, now. Time to go."

They got on their horses, but before they departed, Izzy threw one last glance back at the ancient Ritual Tower. A shiver ran down her spine, and she closed her eyes, struggling for balance.

"Izzy?" Hugh was at her side again, bringing his mount in as close to hers as he could. "Come. I'll take you to your sister. And this time…" He cupped her cheek in his palm for a heartbeat, holding her gaze. "This time I want a proper farewell before you disappear again."

"And you will have it." She felt her lips curve up in a tentative smile. "I promise."


	7. Chapter 7

"Shit. This is worse than I thought." Izzy swallowed hard. "A lot worse."

Adamant Fortress was big. Really big. As in gargantuan. And it wasn't a ruin, at least not in the sense that it was crumbling to pieces. It was a full-blown, defensible keep, and it was teeming with Venatori and possessed Wardens. There was no way they'd be able to sneak past them to scout it out, not if they wanted to come back to tell the tale. Besides, they didn't really have to. What they'd seen so far was more than sufficient to confirm their worst fears.

"Yup." Next to her, Alistair nodded gravely. "Come on. Let's get back to camp."

They returned to their hiding spot in silence, partly to avoid detection, but also because neither of them really felt like talking. It was too depressing, all of it. Izzy still couldn't fathom how the Wardens could have been so completely taken in by a fraud like Erimond. And Alistair’s mind seemed to be far away, lost in memories he couldn't, or wouldn't, share with her.

It was only when they had settled down at their fire, after sharing a bowl of mystery stew and a mug of steaming hot tea, that he finally spoke again. "We’re going to need help to handle this. There's no way we’ll be able to deal with Erimond without an army." He sighed deeply, running his large hand through his hair and mussing it up completely in the process. The tousled hair made him look younger than his years, despite the deep worried creases across his forehead, and when he met her gaze, his face lit up in a crooked smile. "I guess we're lucky that you got into the Inquisitor’s good graces."

"And what exactly do you mean by _that_?" Izzy pretended to glare at him, but her heart wasn't in it, and when she poked him in the ribs, he hardly seemed to feel it.

"Hugh Trevelyan worships the ground you walk on, Iz. Don't act as if you haven't noticed, when it's perfectly obvious you care for him, too." Alistair’s smile was full of genuine warmth. "It's okay. No need to be embarrassed. I'm happy for you, you know. And so is Beth."

"Whoa, let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?" Izzy shook her head. "I'm not _embarrassed_. Why would I be?" She turned away to unpack her bedroll, which gave her a good excuse to avoid his gaze. "But you're wrong, you know. Hugh may like me, but he is not the type to _worship_ anyone. He's far too sober and reasonable for that. And as for me…" She took another deep sip from her mug. "I don't know, Alistair. Hugh's a nice guy, and he’s really good with his tongue, but-"

"Ugh." Alistair made a face, and sure enough, his ears had already taken on a tell-tale reddish hue again. "Too much information. I really didn't need to hear about his talents in that particular area."

"Why, Alistair? What do you mean?" Grinning widely, Izzy elbowed him in the ribs, hard enough to make him flinch this time. "I was only referring to his eloquence. What did _you_ think?"

"Yeah, right." Alistair actually smiled at that, but he quickly grew serious again.  "He's a good man, Iz. By far the best you've been with so far. Though that's not saying much." He raised a pointed eyebrow at her.

"Aw, come on." She raised her chin belligerently. "They weren't all bad."

"Yeah. Keep telling yourself that." Alistair's tone was bone dry.

"It's true!" Izzy protested half-heartedly. He did have a point, but she certainly wasn't going to admit it. "I have excellent taste in men. Just because I saved the best one for my little sister-"

"Enough. Flattery will get you nowhere." Alistair shushed her with a quick gesture, but she could see he was secretly pleased. "So… What now? We head back to, what's it called, Griffon Wing Keep?"

"Exactly." Izzy nodded. "I bet Beth has missed you terribly." She blew an exaggerated kiss at him. "How in Thedas did you manage without her anyway? You must be awfully tense." Her voice was fairly dripping with mock sympathy.

"Oh, shut up." Alistair didn't look offended, but neither did he laugh. "What about _him_ , Iz? Is he coming with us?" He pointed at the tent behind them with his thumb.

"Yes." Izzy nodded emphatically. "I want him close by, just in case."

"But…" Alistair shifted uncomfortably. "Ah, well. I just hope you know what you're doing."

"Don't I always?" Cheerfully, Izzy shrugged off his concerns. "Don't worry. I'm reasonably sure my plan will work." She grinned at his pained expression. "Come on. Leave it all to me, Al. It will all turn out fine."

Alistair didn't seem convinced. Shaking his head, he gave her a worried look. "Right. I… I don't really want to know more, do I?"

"No," she agreed blithely, reaching for her pillow and settling down deeper into her bedroll. "You probably don't."

* * *

"Inquisitor?" Cullen's deep voice tore Hugh out of his thoughts. "Do you approve of our plans so far?"

Hugh forced himself to meet the Commander's expectant gaze. What in Thedas was he supposed to say? He didn't know the first thing about siege warfare, and he hadn't felt so out of his depth since Haven. No, probably since joining the Inquisition. At Haven, things had been clear-cut enough: his life for the welfare of many others. This, however… Next to Cullen, Cassandra gave him an encouraging smile, and he took a deep breath.

"Yes, Commander Cullen. Excellent work as usual. Go ahead." He was glad to hear that his voice sounded firm and decisive, despite his misgivings.

Adamant was surrounded by Inquisition troops, fully equipped with everything they needed to take the fortress: sappers, trebuchets, rams and lots and lots of eager soldiers, willing to sacrifice their lives for the cause. _And quite a few of them will do exactly that_. As always, the thought left a bitter taste in Hugh's mouth. He was fine with doing his duty. He'd never done anything else in all his adult life. But sending others to their deaths, deciding who would go in first… it seemed too big a burden for any one person, and he wondered how Cullen did it.

Fortunately, Cullen and Cassandra completely ignored his maudlin mood. They were both completely focussed on their tasks, too caught up in the minutiae of their attack to waste much thought on anything else. _Which is probably just as well…_ Hugh risked a glance over to where Izzy and her entourage had set up camp. Alistair and Bethany could be seen talking to Varric and Bull, their faces earnest and determined. But Izzy herself was holed up in her tent with that mysterious stranger she'd brought with her.

She'd introduced him as _Risto_. "A wanderer, from up North. He's a learned man, Hugh, and he knows all there is to know about the Fade. That should come in handy at Adamant."

Hugh wasn't sure what to think about Risto. So far, he'd only caught a few glimpses of the man's face below the hood he wore. Judging from his skin tone and his dark hair and eyes, he appeared to be Rivaini. _A seer, then?_ Hugh had heard about them, but it was hard to separate rumour from fact. Either way, the stranger kept mostly to himself and didn't talk much. When Hugh had asked about the intricately carved amulet he wore around his neck, he'd muttered something about a family heirloom, but refused to elaborate.

"Ah, Boss." Bull had noticed him looking and was beckoning for him to join them. "How are things? Anything we can do?"

"Not right now, I’m afraid." Hugh shook his head. "The Commander has everything under control."

"He certainly does." Bull nodded approvingly. "It's nice to see a properly planned siege. I don't think they'll be able to hold out much longer."

"You think?" Hugh sighed deeply. "Who knows what we'll find in there? I just hope we can handle whatever lies ahead."

"And why wouldn't we?" Varric chuckled in smug satisfaction. "We have the Inquisitor, the Champion of Kirkwall, and one of the greatest heroes of the last Blight fighting on our side. Even I can't imagine how we could possibly fail."

"Don't jinx it, Varric, damn you." Bull gravely shook his horned head. "You of all people should know better."

"Sorry." Varric sounded completely unrepentant. "But really, what could possibly go wrong?"

"Inquisitor?" Cullen approached them, a grave look on his face. "Time to give the order."

"Right." Hugh straightened to his full height. "Let's do this."

Things went well enough at first. When Cullen asked him to assemble a small group of fighters to enter the fortress ahead of the main Inquisition force and take out the worst of the resistance on the battlements, Hugh readily agreed. Izzy was enthusiastic to join him, as were her sister and Alistair. With them at his side, as well as his most trusted companions, Hugh felt ready to take on pretty much everything – even demons and Venatori and Wardens at the same time.

They ran into a small group of Wardens early on, and thanks to Alistair's timely intervention, managed to persuade them to take their side, but the bulk of them proved too far gone to reason with, leaving them no choice but to kill them. By the time they finally reached the fortress's inner courtyard, Hugh felt sick from all the butchery.

And there she was: Warden-Commander Clarel, leader of the Orlesian Wardens. There was no need for introductions. Hugh had rarely seen a more imposing figure, and she was a mage, too! For some reasons, none of the Wardens had mentioned that fact, but Hugh could feel her aura all across the courtyard. It was teeming with power and determination – and it was also quite unmistakably corrupted. Or was it the magister standing next to her that exuded such a foul miasma of blood magic and demonic ichor? Hugh couldn't really say, but the mere sight of Erimond's smug face made him want to throw up.

Sure enough, the two of them were busy setting up yet another ritual, yet another step that would bring Corypheus closer to his goals. Yet another nightmarish demon set loose upon the world. Clarel was hanging on Erimond's lips, drinking in the poison he was dripping into her ears, barely conscious of her surroundings.

"Commander Clarel, I beg you." Alistair sounded desperate. "Listen to me."

But it was no use. Clarel hesitated for barely a heartbeat before giving the command. Hugh felt the opening of the rift deep in his bones, a brutal tear in the Veil that already was frayed and broken, here in this cursed place. Next to him, Izzy groaned in frustration, echoing his feelings. _Damn it._ _Clarel's leaving us no choice._

"We can't let this happen." Raising his staff high, Hugh felt his lips set in a grim line. "Attack!"

* * *

 _Great._ Izzy stared at her surroundings without bothering to hide her revulsion. Floating rocks, people walking upside down, muted colours, weird lighting. _The Fade_. There was no doubt about it. _Just when I thought things couldn't get worse…_

When Commander Clarel had finally realized her mistake, it had been too late. The rift had already been opened, and Erimond had set his master’s pet dragon on them. Izzy shuddered at the memory. A full-grown dragon was bad enough, but a _blighted_ one? It was the stuff of nightmares. Even now, she had no idea if the beast was really gone, no idea who among their companions had survived their desperate fight. Clarel was dead, she was pretty sure of that, and she thought she'd seen Cassandra alive and well, just before Hugh had… done whatever it was he'd done, and they'd been sucked _here_.

Hugh himself was still looking confused and disoriented and she couldn't blame him. The Fade didn't exactly follow normal rules of topography at the best of times, and the section around them was a particularly confusing one. Whichever demon or spirit had come up with it, it had clearly only had the most rudimentary grasp of gravity.

Quickly she glanced around, taking store of who had come with them. Behind Hugh, Bull raised his huge, horned head, looking dazed but undaunted. Varric was here, too, giving her a crooked smile, and Alistair, with a familiar hooded figure hovering right next to him. No sign of Beth or Dorian, and yes, it seemed as if they'd left Cassandra behind, too. Which was a mixed blessing – the Seeker would have been invaluable in a fight, but Izzy had reasons of her own to be grateful for her absence.

"Blight it, where are we?" Hugh sounded tense. "It looks like the Fade, but-"

"It is the Fade. I'm sure of it." Izzy glanced at Risto, and yes, he was nodding almost imperceptibly, his face hidden behind the folds of his hood. "But… This is not how I remember the Fade from my dreams. It's… worse. It feels wrong, somehow, too raw, too intense. As if someone had stripped away all the masks and left behind only the bare bones." Instinctively she reached out for Hugh, trying to take his hand, but he was too far away. "I don't know how you did it, Hugh, but my guess is that we've travelled physically into the Fade."

Hugh nodded, and she had to admire his composure. "That's what I feared. I… the Anchor must have opened a rift as we fell. I'm sorry."

"Why would you be sorry?" Varric shrugged. "From what I recall it was either this or going down into the abyss. So far, I have to say I vastly prefer this. At least we're alive." He looked around and sighed. "I may change my mind yet, I grant you."

"True." Bull sounded disgusted _._ "Boss? Can we get out of here as soon as possible? I'll fight whatever you give me, but this..." He kicked a loose rock, snorting with disgust when it started to float away.

"The rift the demons originally came through should be nearby. At least if this place has any relation to the real world at all." Alistair turned to face Hugh. "Inquisitor. Didn't you walk out of the Fade at Haven? Maybe your experiences can help us escape."

But Hugh shook his head, giving Izzy a pleading look. "I'm sorry, Alistair. I still can't remember a thing about it. I wish I could be more helpful, but-" He broke off.

"Doesn't matter. We'll come up with something." Varric sounded blithely unconcerned. "Look! There's something that looks like a rift over there. How about we head toward it and see what happens?" He chuckled. "I can't wait to hear what people are going to say about this story. I can just imagine the reviews. _Too unrealistic_. _Messere Tethras has finally lost his mind._ No one is going to believe it."

Izzy had kept quiet through most of the discussion. From what she knew of the Fade, it would make little difference which way they went. She had a bad feeling about the whole thing, though. _Someone is playing games with us_. And whoever it was, she was pretty sure she wasn't going to like them.

"Hawke." Varric gave her a little shove. "Remember our last excursion to the Fade?" He nodded at Risto. "Now, I wonder if-"

"How could I forget, Varric?" Izzy quickly interrupted him before he could say too much. "Not exactly a pleasant memory, mind you. Honestly, I'd expected better of you." She kept her tone as light-hearted as she could, but looking back, it still hurt how easily her companions had given in to the demon's temptations back then.

"Yeah, well." Varric shrugged. "Water under the bridge. We survived, and we'll do so again. Just you wait." He turned away, shouldering Bianca. "Now, are you coming or not?"

* * *

Hugh had a headache. It had started as a dull, insistent throbbing between his temples, after the first of his memories had come back, or rather been reawakened by the spirit claiming to be Divine Justinia. He had long since given up on determining whether the spirit had been speaking the truth. Some part of him would have gladly lived without the knowledge she had bestowed on him, even as the more rational side of him admitted that it was useful.

Now he finally knew what had happened at the Temple. Now he knew why he was carrying the Anchor. Not because of divine providence, just by accident. If he hadn't happened to walk into that room… But he couldn't really make sense of things right now, not with the pain in his head swelling further with each revelation, not with the taunting voice of the Nightmare demon still in his ears. Besides, he wasn't sure how much longer he could stand this place. Nothing here was predictable, nothing made sense. He wasn't even sure the rock he was sitting on would remain solid.

"Hugh?" Izzy's voice was like a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. "How are you doing?"

Kneeling before him, she took his face between her hands to make him look at her. Her palms were cool and soft, and when he met her gaze, it gave him something to focus on, something besides the white-hot lances of pain burning through his skull.

"Hugh," she repeated. "Have some water. It will help."

Gratefully he accepted the flask she offered him. The water inside was cold and crystal clear, and yes, it helped a little. Shaking himself, he attempted a smile. "Thank you."

"It's fine." Izzy smiled back. "We're doing good so far, don't you think? I wonder what that Nightmare guy looks like. Probably something spider-ish. He seems fond of spiders, judging from his minions." She grimaced.

"So you see them as spiders, too? Bull said something about oversized maggots." Hugh made a face. "I'd have preferred maggots, to be honest."

"Me, too. Which might be why we see spiders," Izzy pointed out. "It's probably one of those 'your worst fear' kind of things. I've always hated spiders."

"As have I." Hugh felt an unexpected warmth blossom in his stomach. It was nice to have something in common, even if it wasn't exactly a pleasant thing. "Ah, well. I guess we'll just have to deal."

"Hugh." Izzy leaned in even closer, her lips lightly brushing his. "I don't care. I'd fight a million spiders with you at my side."

And then she was kissing him, really kissing him, and for a moment, all his worries and concerns disappeared. All he could think about was how good she felt in his arms, how sweet she tasted, how he never wanted the kiss to end.

"I love you so much." The words left his lips before he had time to think, and when he realized what he'd said, he almost wished he could take them back. Surely, this was neither the time nor the place for romantic overtures, not with demons and fearlings lurking behind each corner. Surely, it would have been better to wait until they were back in the safety of Griffon Wing Keep and he could make love to her properly. This wasn't how he'd imagined this moment between them.

Izzy didn't reply at first, and for a moment, he wasn't even sure she'd heard him. But when he met her gaze, her eyes were shining with love and happiness. "Likewise."

It was a mere whisper, before she turned away again to face the others, and it was delivered in her usual flippant tone, but Hugh didn't care. She loved him, too.

The pain in his head was all but forgotten.

When they finally set sight on the Nightmare, Hugh was torn between panic and laughter, because Izzy's prediction turned out to be spot-on. It was a massive, deformed, spider-like creature with hairy legs and pincers and Maker, so many eyes! It took all his control not to scream at the sight. Next to him, Izzy shuddered all over.

"Are you all right, love?" It made it a little easier, knowing that she felt the same as he did, that he was not alone in his fear and disgust.

"Yeah." Izzy made a small, retching noise in the back of her throat. "You know, I keep thinking things can't get worse, and then-"

"Merciful Andraste!" Alistair had come up behind them, and he had turned just as pale as Izzy. "What is that thing?"

"Everyone's worst nightmare." For the first time, since they'd entered the Fade, the man called Risto spoke up. He'd been so quiet that Hugh had almost forgotten about him.

Alistair threw him a quick, irritated look. "Yes, that sums it up nicely, thank you. Actually, scratch that question. I don't care what it is. How do we get by?"

Hugh nodded in agreement. They were so close to the rift that the anchor was pulsing like mad, so close that they were only a few steps from freedom. But the Nightmare blocked their way, fat and immovable, exuding an almost tangible aura of evil.

"There is no way past it." Risto spoke again, in a resigned, hopeless tone that made Hugh's stomach clench. " _Someone_ will have to fight it."

"You mean-" Hugh felt queasy. Would it come down to this, then? Sacrificing one of them for the greater good, while the rest of them escaped? Normally, he wouldn't have hesitated to volunteer, but the mere thought of facing this horror alone-

"Go. I'll cover you." Izzy was pale as a sheet, but she held her head up high. Even as everything inside him screamed _no_ , Hugh couldn't help thinking that she had never been more beautiful. But no, he couldn't allow this. Frantically, he wracked his brain on how to stop her, knowing full well that everything he said would just make her cling more obstinately to her plan.

"No, Izzy." It was Alistair who spoke up. "The Wardens caused this mess. A Warden must fix it. It makes sense, don't you see?"

But predictably, Izzy wouldn't be swayed. "That's bullshit, Al. The Wardens have paid enough for their mistakes. And besides, they need you to rebuild the Order. Beth needs you. Ferelden needs you. Leave this to me. I can handle it."

"The void you can." Alistair shook his head, his lips set in a grim line. "Whoever fights this thing is not getting out of here alive, and I'm not sending you to your death, Iz. And neither is the Inquisitor, right, Hugh?"

"Leave Hugh out of this." Izzy glared at Alistair, not even sparing a glance at Hugh. "This is my decision to make. Corypheus is my responsibility."

Above them, the Nightmare loomed, so far above their little squabbles, so utterly certain that it had them at its mercy. Hugh closed his eyes, trying to collect his thoughts. Izzy and Alistair were facing each other with identical stubborn expressions. Would they even listen if he told them what to do?

_There must be another way._


	8. Chapter 8

"I won't allow you to stay behind, no matter what you say." Izzy crossed her arms and raised her chin, radiating determination. "What would I tell Beth?"

"So you think she'd be happier losing you?" Alistair glared back as her, looking just as stubborn.

Hugh sighed internally. _What am I going to do?_ Clearly, nothing he could say was going to convince either of them to back off.

"If I'd finished off Coryphaeus properly-" Izzy didn't even have time to finish her sentence before Alistair cut her off with a decisive gesture.

"This is Warden business, Iz. For the last time."

"Then why not let me take care of it?" The man called Risto stepped forward, throwing back his hood and revealing dark skin and a shock of black hair. "After all, I'm a Warden, too."

"You, a Warden?" Alistair sounded irritated. "But who-"

Before he could finish his sentence, 'Risto' took hold of the amulet around his neck and yanked hard on it, breaking the chain. Even as he tossed it to Izzy, his looks began to change, his skin growing pale and his fine hair turning a light shade of reddish blond. He straightened up to his full height, and now Hugh could see that he was far taller and lankier than he had appeared. His face, too, looked gaunt, almost to the point of asceticism, and his warm brown eyes were full of sadness.

"Well, I'll be damned." Varric was the first to find his voice, turning to face Izzy. "You brought _Blondie_? After all we went through to keep him hidden?"

Hugh held his breath. Varric's nickname confirmed his own suspicions as to the stranger's identity.

Izzy seemed to realize that there was no point in further subterfuge. "Damn it, Anders, why-"

"Not Anders." One more look at Izzy from those sad brown eyes, and the stranger raised himself even higher.

Hugh watched in utter horror as Anders' eyes turned bright blue, and his skin started to crack, as if the fragile human body was no longer able to contain the creature hidden within.

"I am Justice." Even his voice had changed, turned dark and hollow. "I am a Warden, too," he repeated. "And I will deal with this abomination."

There was a world of pain in Izzy's eyes as she stared at what had become of her friend. "Anders…"

"Let me do it, Hawke. It's for the best." There was an echo of Anders' warmer tones in the spirit's voice for a moment, but it was gone immediately. "Go! Now!"

And without another look at them, he turned away and stalked toward the Nightmare. Izzy seemed frozen in place, but Alistair had already taken her arm and was dragging her over to the rift, and finally, Hugh's own feet obeyed him again.

"Quick, everyone. Make his sacrifice worthwhile," he bellowed at the top of his voice, glad to see everyone follow.

One by one, Hugh watched his companions go through the rift, praying with all his heart that it would take them back to Adamant and that they would be safe there. Varric was the last to go, throwing back one last look at Anders and shaking his head. _Stupid, crazy mage_ , Hugh heard him mutter, before he, too, stepped through. Taking a deep breath, Hugh threw himself into the rift after him. And the world went dark.

* * *

They didn't talk much on the way back to Griffon Wing Keep. Not even Varric was up to his usual flippant comments, and Izzy was glad. She hadn't felt so worn out in ages.

Hugh had been swept away the moment they had all recovered enough to make sense of their surroundings. The situation at Adamant had been under control, the clean-up after the battle already well under way. Commander Cullen had confirmed that the dragon had taken off the moment they went through the rift. With the beast gone and Erimond captured, Corypheus' minions had fallen into disarray, and the disciplined Inquisition troops had easily carried the day.

Much to Izzy's relief, Beth was fine, too. When she watched her sister and Alistair embrace, the feeling of relief was almost overwhelming. _They are safe. Both of them._ Or rather, as safe as they ever would be. But Anders…

Izzy hadn't expected any of this when she'd asked the mage to come along. She'd just followed her gut feeling, which had told her that she would need him, in a place like Adamant where the Veil was thin and demons and spirits were lurking around every corner. She hadn't expected to be dragged physically into the Fade, and not even in her wildest dreams had she imagined that she would lose Anders.

And it hurt. Knowing he was no longer there, no longer part of her world, pained her, more than she could say. It didn't help to know that he'd been a mere shadow of his former self for so long. It didn't help that he had gone to this death of his own free will, maybe from a desire to set Justice free again, or maybe in an attempt to atone for all the suffering he'd caused. None of it helped.

"Hawke? Are you okay?" Varric sounded worried.

Izzy closed her eyes, willing herself to be strong. And then she did what she'd always done, when Carver had died, when her mother had been cruelly murdered, when Kirkwall had fallen and she'd lost all she'd worked so hard for. She put a brave face on it and smiled at him. "I will be."

"Glad to hear it." He smiled back, even though his heart clearly wasn't in it. "Ah, damn it. I'll miss him."

Izzy nodded. Her throat was too tight to speak.

When they arrived at the Keep, everyone went their separate ways. It was nice to be able to clean up and rest and to get a proper meal again. Afterwards Izzy withdrew into her very own room, relieved to have a moment to herself. She had really come to appreciate the perks of being a part of the Inquisition's well-oiled machinery.

It was late at night and she was curled up on the bed with an Orlesian romance when Hugh knocked on her door.

"Hey." He sounded so tired, so dejected, that she put her book aside and came into his arms without further prompting.

For a long moment, he just held her, hiding his face in her hair, but then he took a step back and tried to catch her eye. "Izzy. Why didn't you tell me?"

She didn't pretend not to understand him. "About Anders, you mean?"

"Yes." He didn't sound mad, just… disappointed? Shit, that was worse. "Why didn't you trust me? I would never have betrayed you. Didn't you know that?"

"I…" Izzy swallowed. His honesty was disarming, even more so in the light of her own recent lack of it. "I'm sorry, Hugh. And I do trust you. It's just… You're on such good terms with the Seeker and I wasn't sure-"

"Cassandra?" Hugh exhaled sharply, rubbing his eyes. "Look, Izzy." He raised his head again and this time he held her gaze, without flinching. "I respect and admire Cassandra very much. But I love you. And if it ever came to picking a side..." He took her hand. "I'm on your side, Izzy. You don't have to lie to me. You don't need to pretend."

She wasn't sure if it was his words or the earnest, sincere look in his eyes, but something inside her melted at this declaration. "Damn it, Hugh…" Angrily, she shook off the tears that began to cloud her eyes. "Stop being so nice. You should be mad at me. I deserve it."

But he shook his head. "You did what you thought you had to do. And in a way, I'm glad. If Anders hadn't been there-"

"And now he's gone!" The sudden outburst of pain came as a complete shock to herself. "He's gone, and it's my fault. Just like-"

She broke off, and Hugh didn't ask, didn't protest, just pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest, murmuring soothing nonsense in her ears. He held her until she stopped sobbing, until she finally grew quiet and relaxed in his arms.

"Izzy?" Hugh's voice was soft and low. "Let me stay with you tonight. Please." He sounded as emotional as she felt.

And she wanted him, she really did, but right now- "I'm sorry, Hugh. Maker knows, I've waited for you to say it, but I don't think I can-"

"No, you misunderstand." Hugh laughed shakily. "Not… I just want to hold you. All night long. Please, Izzy." His grip around her tightened. "I've come so close to losing you today. I need you."

"Of course." She allowed him to lead her over to the bed.

Moments later, they were both undressed, and she was in his arms, surrounded by his warmth, safe and secure. Izzy fell asleep almost immediately.

When she woke up in the morning, she snuck out to follow a call of nature, and when she returned, Hugh was still fast asleep. Izzy crawled back under the covers, careful not to disturb him. It was a rare opportunity, to watch him like this, alone and undisturbed, and she wasn't going to waste it. Propping herself up on her elbow, she stared at his face, as if she could detect some hidden meaning in his features.

It was a handsome face, with a strong jaw and high cheekbones, but it wasn't in any way remarkable. Nothing to show that this was the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste, the Chosen One. No sign of his magical abilities either, though she could feel his power, sizzling just under his skin. Hugh _was_ powerful, no doubt about it, proficient in both elemental and spirit magic. _Such a waste to hide it all away in the Circle for so long._ And yet, he claimed to have been happy there.

Izzy sighed, shaking her head in wonder. Here she was, falling for a tame Circle mage, the likes of which she had despised all her life. A devout Andrastian, too, by the sound of it, and that was even harder to stomach. Could they really make this work? Was there any way to reconcile their many differences?

"Izzy?" He was awake, looking up at her with an affectionate smile, and suddenly, her musings seemed overly pessimistic to her.

"Morning." She smiled back, feeling her heart beat faster. It _had_ been nice, to spend a whole night in his arms, safe and warm. "Are you done snoring?"

"I never snore." He sat up, pretending to glare at her. "Give me a moment."

When he returned from the bathroom, she moved aside to make room for him, and he eagerly embraced her, breathing in her scent with a satisfied hum. She was a teensy bit tempted to tease him further, but then decided to let it go. It was far too nice to lie here like this, his bare body hot against hers. He felt good, firm and taut, and when she offered him her lips for a kiss, he didn't hesitate.

It was a good kiss, soft and tentative at first, but quickly growing more heated. By the time he let go off her lips, his hands had moved to her breasts, as if of their own accord, and Izzy was breathing faster. Hugh wasn't unaffected either, his pupils widely blown and his cock twitching against her thigh.

Izzy moved into his touch, to let him know she was on board with anything he had in mind, and he inhaled sharply, pulling her in for another kiss. This one was even better, just forceful enough to make her feel how hungry he was for her, and yet leaving her wanting more, always more. She moaned when he broke the kiss, and he laughed, catching her lips again. Maker, had she ever been kissed like this, with such thoroughness and focus? It was amazing and wonderful, and the soft brush of his thumbs over her nipples provided a perfect counterpoint.

Finally, his hand wandered lower, parting her legs with a sure touch, but when she tensed in happy anticipation, he froze in motion. "Izzy? Is this all right?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" She arched up against him, rubbing herself against his crotch and drawing a quick gasp from him.

"It's just…" Hugh took a deep breath. "What with everything that went down yesterday, I'd understand if you-"

"Oh, Hugh." Izzy rolled her eyes at him, but deep down inside, she was sincerely touched that he had asked. Few men would have been so considerate when they finally had the object of their desire within their reach.  _Alistair is right. This one is a keeper._ Still, she definitely didn't want this to end now. "Look, I'm going to miss Anders. He was one of my dearest friends. But on the other hand…"Izzy sighed. It was hard to find words that didn't make her sound heartless. "It was a good way for him to go. He was… broken, in so many ways, and he had so much to atone for. I think he's at peace now. And besides…"She tried to inject some lightness into her tone. "Who knows? Maybe he isn't dead. Maybe Justice kicked that demon's ass."

"Oh, Izzy." Hugh shook his head at her, but he seemed relieved that she hadn't asked him to stop.

No wonder, really. When she reached down to wrap her hand around his cock, he was rock hard and pulsing with want, and he groaned at her touch, deep in his throat. Moments later, his hand found her heat, two fingers sliding easily inside her, because she was so very ready for him.

"Maker." There was a tremor in his voice, and his eyes were feverish with want. "Please, Izzy, I-"

"Go ahead." Pulling him between her legs, she wiggled around a little until he found the perfect angle. Hugh seemed grateful for her help, and not at all put out by it, much to her relief.

It was difficult not to tense up when he finally pushed inside her, difficult, because she had wanted this for so long, imagined it in such vivid detail that she was almost afraid the reality would disappoint her. But there was no danger of that. Hugh was careful and controlled, sliding inside her with almost tortuous slowness, giving her all the time in the world to get used to the feeling of him inside her. And she loved it, every single inch of him filling her, stretching her ever so slightly, as he joined with her as deeply as possible.

"Hugh." When he was fully settled, she made him stop, so she could look into his eyes, and what she saw there took her breath away. "I love you." The words came unbidden, unplanned, but she didn't regret a single syllable. "Maker, Hugh, I love you so much."

"I love you, too." Hugh tried to smile, but there was a strained look around his eyes.

Clearly, he was struggling for control, and seeing him like this tickled Izzy's sense of mischief. Could she make him come undone, break that careful composure? She was pretty sure she could. Placing both hands on the small of his back, she pushed him even deeper, at the same time clenching hard around him.

"Damn it, Izzy!" Hugh groaned, tensing all over. "I-"

His hips snapped hard against her, once, twice, and Izzy almost screamed because it felt _so good_. "It's fine." She breathed the words in his ear, flicking her tongue against his earlobe, which drew yet another pained sigh from him. "Let go. I don't mind."

Another sharp thrust, but he caught himself, panting harshly. "But I do. I… Damn it, Izzy, stop!" Closing his eyes, he took several deep breaths. "I want this to last a little longer. You feel so wonderful."

"You, too." She pouted a little, but when he finally moved again, with long, measured strokes, she changed her mind.

Because this was _good_. No, scratch that, it was _perfect_. He set a slow, but relentless rhythm, and with every deep, measured thrust, he took her higher and higher, ever closer to that elusive moment of ecstasy she felt lurking just around the corner. She wanted so badly for him to touch her, to help her along, and she wondered how to tell him, but before she could ask, he was already sneaking a hand between them, brushing his fingers against her with the utmost delicacy.

And it was enough. She came with a high-pitched scream, arching up so high into his arms that her heels dug deep into the bed. Hugh pulled back with a stifled moan, taking hold of his cock, and moments later, he was coming, too, spilling all over her thighs and stomach, and it was such a gloriously beautiful sight that she nearly passed out.

Hugh looked just as dazed as she felt when he opened his eyes again, blushing when he saw the mess he'd made. "I'm sorry." He was reaching for his shirt, lying discarded next to the bed, clearly intending to clean her up, but Izzy stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

"Don't be. That was hot." Gently she took his head and guided it to her stomach.

He took the hint and slowly started to massage his seed into her skin. Izzy lay back with a pleased sigh. They could wash later. Right now, she didn't mind being sticky and smelling of sex. _There are worse fates_.

Hugh seemed to feel much the same, because once he was done, he embraced her tightly again, his legs entangling with hers as he pulled her close. "Thank you." He sounded happy and sated.

"No, thank you." She ran her fingers through his hair, tousled and sweaty at the temples. "That was lovely."

He made an affirmative sound, and they stayed like this, without talking, just holding each other. Izzy couldn't recall the last time she had felt so happy and relaxed in anybody's presence.

It was almost an hour later when Hugh finally made an attempt to free himself from her embrace. "Well, then. Let's head for the bathroom. I'm a mess."

"I guess we should. Although…" Chewing her lip thoughtfully, she glanced up at him from under her lashes, refusing to let go of him. "I'm not sure it's worth the trouble."

"Why wouldn't it be?" Hugh looked confused for a moment. "It's time to get up, don't you think? Unless- Oh!"

Her hand had found his cock, and with two or three skilled caresses, she had him half hard again. "Unless we find something better to do," Izzy purred. "And I do have the most marvellous ideas."

* * *

The Inquisition's kitchen staff had outdone themselves, once again. Hugh made a mental note to stop by the kitchen later in the day and thank them for their efforts. How they managed to come up with such delicacies, up here in Skyhold, far from any source of fresh supplies, was beyond him. The long table was fairly sagging under the weight of steaming dishes and baskets of freshly baked bread, and the delicious aromas wafting through the air were enough to make his mouth water.

Yet when he tried to eat, he found that he couldn't manage more than a few bites.

Izzy threw him a worried look from her place at his side. "What's the matter, Hugh? Are you not well?"

"It's not that." He reached for her hand under the table, squeezing it tightly. "I'm going to miss you."

"Yeah. Me, too." She smiled at him, but at the same time, she reached for a large platter of venison. "But I'll be damned if I pass on a meal like this. Who knows when I'll get the like again?"

"I'll drink to that." Alistair raised his goblet with a cheery wink. "I bet the food at Weisshaupt isn't half as good."

"Don't be too sure." Bethany looked a little flushed from the wine. "They do have a lot of hungry Wardens to feed, you know. But anyway," she addressed herself to Hugh. "Thank you for giving us such a lovely send-off, Inquisitor."

"It's my pleasure." Hugh inclined his head. "I am more grateful for your help than I can say."

"As well you should be." Izzy grinned at him over the bone she was chewing on. "Oh, and Beth… How about you start calling him Hugh? 'Inquisitor' sounds a tad too formal for the guy who's sleeping with your sister, don't you think?"

And of course, she had picked exactly the right moment, when there was a lull in the conversation and her words rang out clearly across their end of the table. For a moment, everyone fell silent. Hugh flinched, looking at the others to gauge their reactions. Leliana was smiling like a cat, while Cullen did his best to pretend he hadn't heard a thing. Bull and Dorian exchanged a glance, both of them grinning unabashedly. Cassandra made a small, snorting noise, while Varric guffawed loudly, not bothering to hide his mirth.

"Honestly, Izzy!" Alistair rolled his eyes with an audible groan. "Will you ever learn to behave?"

"Well…" Hugh cleared his throat. "I-"

"It's all right, Inquisitor." Varric wiped a tear from his eye. "We'd pretty much guessed, anyway. Right, folks?"

There was a low murmur of assent, and then everyone started talking again, much to Hugh's relief. When he turned to face Izzy, she looked moderately chastened.

"Sorry." She made a face. "I didn’t mean to embarrass you."

"It's fine." He felt his mouth twitch a little. Though he'd never admit to it, he was still mentally replaying everyone's reactions in his head. Cassandra's expression had been priceless. "Do you have to leave with them?"

Izzy nodded. "I'll take them to their ship and afterwards…" A brief shadow crossed her face, but it was gone before anybody else could catch it. "There are a few people who need to be told about Anders, and I can't do that in a letter. I'll try and be quick about it."

"I'll be waiting." Once again, he took her hand. "Please take care."

"Don't I always?" She gave him her sunniest smile. "Don't worry. I'll be back before you know it."


	9. Chapter 9

"So the mage is gone." Fenris' deep, mellow voice sounded genuinely regretful. "I am sorry it had to come to this."

"Yeah. Me too." Izzy bit back a sob. Telling her former companions about Anders' death was a lot harder than she had anticipated. "If only I had-"

"You are not to blame, Hawke." Fenris shyly touched her arm. "It was what he wanted, never forget that. He always said there were worse things than death."

Izzy nodded, feeling her eyes fill with tears. She hadn't expected Fenris to be so understanding. He and Anders had never been on good terms, constantly bickering and exchanging barbs. And yet, Fenris appeared sincerely moved by Anders' sacrifice. _Which goes to show you never can tell._

"Will you let Isabela know?" Izzy sniffled a little. "She and Anders went way back."

Fenris nodded calmly. "I will. Don't worry, Hawke. She's bound to show up here sooner or later."

_Here_ being Highever, where Fenris had settled down after the Chantry disaster, serving in Teyrn Fergus Cousland’s personal guard. He seemed happy with his life these days, even if he still was a loner. _And likely to remain so._

"Thank you." Izzy sighed. _Wish I was back at Skyhold already_.

Her journey had started off well enough. She had seen Alistair and Bethany off at Jader, where they'd boarded a ship that would take them across the Waking Sea. They still had a long and dangerous voyage ahead of them until they reached the Anderfels, but she felt better once they were safely stowed away.

Then she'd set out to find her old crew, or as many of them as she could manage. Merrill's little house in the Coastlands had been her first stop. Her Dalish friend had been philosophical about the news, but then she was no stranger to loss. Izzy would have loved to go and see Aveline in Kirkwall, too, but she didn't dare return to the City of Chains, not yet. There were still plenty of people who might recognize the former Champion, and not even Bran would be able to save her, if the mob turned against her. Provided he would still want to, which was by no means sure. He had changed after becoming Provisional Viscount, from what Varric had said, and not for the better. _Ah, well._ At least she could cross Fenris and Isabela off her list now.

The next morning, she was on the road again, headed for Vigil's Keep, where she had a long chat with Sigrun and Nathaniel Howe, Anders’ friends from his time with the Wardens. Izzy hated being the bearer of bad news, but in a way, it was comforting to talk to people who had known Anders and cared about him. Really, she was glad she'd gone on this journey. It was almost like a pilgrimage – though that was probably a blasphemous thought.

Izzy expected to return to Skyhold via the North Road and the Imperial Highway without further delays. But nothing went the way she'd planned. She had to take all kinds of unexpected detours, and the road seemed endless. The final straw came when she ran into a unit of Red Templars near Lake Calenhad. She barely made it out of there alive, and when she finally caught sight of the towers of Skyhold in the distance, she was so relieved she could have screamed. 

_Skyhold_. She had really grown attached to the place. And now it was almost six weeks later than she'd planned. Her whole body was yearning for Hugh's touch, and she'd missed his smile, too, his voice, his humour. She couldn't wait to be with him again, to tell him about her adventures, to ask his advice. _Face it, girl. You have it bad_.

Yet, when she rode into the courtyard, the fortress seemed oddly quiet. There were people around, but the usual air of bustling activity was missing, and the tavern was almost empty. When she spotted Scout Harding in a corner, Izzy quickly made for her table, glad to see a familiar face.

"Hawke! You're back." The little scout's face lit up in a happy grin that immediately made room for an expression of regret. "But you missed the Inquisitor. He left just two days ago."

_Damn it_. Izzy had a hard time hiding her disappointment, but she tried to keep her tone light. "Such a shame. But hey, Hugh's a busy man. Where is he off to this time? Not another trip to the desert, I hope."

"No, not at all." Harding sounded positively giddy. "They've all gone to the Winter Palace in Halamshiral to attend Empress Celene's ball. Imagine that! Everyone has gone, even the Commander and Seeker Pentaghast."

"A ball?" Izzy grinned, as she imagined Cullen and Cassandra all dolled up and ill at ease among the courtiers. "Well, that sounds promising."

"Such a pity you weren't here." Harding sadly shook her head. "I bet he'd have taken you with him. What with you and him-" She broke off, with a blush. "Sorry. Not my place."

"No worries." Izzy hardly noticed her discomfort. _A ball at the Winter Palace_. A plan was beginning to take shape in her mind. "When did you say the big day was?"

* * *

Surreptitiously, Hugh ran a finger under the stiff collar of his gala uniform, wishing he could at least ditch the jacket. The ball had been going on for some time, and it was getting hot and stuffy inside the sumptuous ballroom. Cullen didn't look all that happy either, even though he was surrounded by eager admirers. Well, the latter fact probably just added to his discomfort. Hugh bit back a grin, trying to focus on the elderly duchess who had struck up a conversation with him.

Josephine's repeated admonitions still sounded in his ears. "Be very careful, Inquisitor. Trust no one. It is vital you leave a good impression. The Game is more complicated than you could possibly imagine, and every tiny misstep could be fatal." He had nodded and done his best to listen. It wouldn't do to underestimate the Orlesian nobles. For all their vapid behaviour, he was ready to bet they could give every Circle politician a run for their money. And tonight, when the Empress’s life might be at stake, they couldn't afford to fail.

He was about to excuse himself and head over to Vivienne, who was clearly thriving in this environment, when an excited murmur near the door made him look up. Someone had appeared in the doorway, a woman, slim and graceful, in a spectacular silvery gown, complemented by a delicate lacy mask on her face and a huge feathered headdress on her immaculately coiffed blonde hair. She looked gorgeous, but she was hardly the only woman that description applied to tonight.

The real reason for the commotion became clear moments later, when the herald announced the latecomer. "And now, presenting: Madame Mystère, who refuses to give her true name."

An excited murmur rose all around the room, but Hugh hardly heard what everyone was saying. He was too busy watching the mysterious lady who was now coming forward and sinking into a deep curtsey before the Empress. _Is_ she _the assassin?_ It seemed unlikely.

"Madame Mystère. How droll." The Empress smiled indulgently. "And will we have the honour to witness your unmasking later tonight, Milady?"

The lady responded with a graceful shrug and a second curtsey before the herald ushered her away. Celene's smile became a little forced, but she didn't insist on an answer. Hugh, for his part, kept a close eye on the stranger, trying to assess if she was a danger. He tried to get closer to her, but of course everyone in the room was doing the same. No matter how hard he tried, courtiers kept getting in his way, and by the time he had finally managed to get a little closer, Leliana was signalling frantically for him to come over.

"Inquisitor. All the leads point to the guest wing. You should start by investigating there." Leliana's smile never wavered while she was talking to him.

"I…" Cursing under his breath, Hugh nodded. Whoever the mysterious lady was, she would have to wait. He highly doubted she was the assassin they were looking for. _Far too conspicuous_.

When he returned from the guest wing after a little bit of unauthorized exploration, the excitement surrounding the lady had died down a little. But something about her was oddly familiar. Hugh held his breath as a thought struck him. Could it be- But, no, surely that wasn't possible. He kept sneaking glances at the mysterious woman while he reported his findings to Leliana, until she interrupted him with an amused snort.

"So far, she's refused every single dance partner. But maybe she would make an exception for you?" Leliana's tone was heavily laced with innuendo.

Hugh's heart beat faster. Had he been right after all? But surely, she wouldn't be this crazy? Not even she would- Just then the lady raised her head and met his gaze, and his heart almost stopped. _Of course she would_. He should have seen it right from the start. The whole affair had _Izzy_ written all over it. Quickly, he made his way over to her, greeting her with a deep bow.

"Inquisitor." Her voice was so soft as to be almost inaudible. "Such a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Madame Mystère." Hugh offered her his arm. "May I have this dance?"

She nodded gracefully, and followed him to the dance floor. Behind her, the excited buzz rose again, but Hugh barely heard it. The moment the music started to play, he pulled her as close as he dared.

"What in the Maker's name are you doing here?" He had a hard time keeping his voice down.

Izzy smiled serenely as she leaned into his embrace. "I wanted to dance with you."

"But-" He gave up. There was simply nothing he could think of to say.

Besides, now that she was here and there was nothing he could do about it, wasn't it better to enjoy the moment? She felt so wonderful in his arms, and the moment was magical. It felt like a dream, or a fairy tale, gliding across the dance floor, drowning in her eyes, as the harmonies of the music carried them along. Some part of him was aware that everybody's eyes were upon them, but he didn't care. For one precious dance, it was only him and her, as if the rest of the world with all its troubles had ceased to exist.

It ended far too quickly. The last note faded away, he dipped her deeply, and as a roar of applause rose all around them, she took advantage of it to whisper in his ear. "Meet me near the door to the servants' wing in half an hour."

Hugh carefully avoided giving any indication that he'd heard her, but at the appointed time, he headed for the servants' wing, eager not to keep her waiting. But as he was about to walk down the stairs, a familiar voice made him stop in his tracks.

"Inquisitor!" Cassandra had looked uncomfortable and irritated ever since they'd arrived, but now she was positively scowling. "Where are you going?"

"A private matter." Hugh unconsciously raised his chin. Cassandra hadn't questioned him like this in a very long time, and he wasn't about to let it slide now. He _was_ the Inquisitor, after all.

"It's _her_ , isn't it?" The Seeker's tone was scathing. "We have no time for her games tonight. There's too much at stake, and that little display on the dance floor was quite enough, don't you think?"

"No, I don't." By now, he was really getting angry. "I will be back in time, Cassandra. Have a little faith, for Andraste's sake. I know what I'm doing."

Her mouth opened, as if she wanted to contradict him, but then she nodded briskly, her mouth setting in a grim line. "As you wish."

Part of him regretted his harsh words, but he really had no time to lose. Rushing down the stairs, he kept a lookout for Izzy's silvery dress. Much to his chagrin, she was nowhere to be seen. Just as he was about to give up and head back, he saw a hand waving at him from a tiny alcove in a dark corner. Quickly checking that nobody was watching him, he slipped inside.

"Hugh." Embracing him fervently, Izzy pulled him deeper into the darkness.

She had gotten rid of the dress somehow, and Hugh felt a tiny pang at the thought that he wouldn't get to peel her out of it later. But he had to admit that her current outfit – simple pants and a linen shirt, like the servants wore, was far more practical and less conspicuous.

"Izzy." He allowed himself one deep, passionate kiss before he returned to the matter at hand. "What happened to your dress? And where did you find it in the first place?"

She laughed softly. "The Comtesse de Rochechouart didn't feel well enough to attend the ball, poor thing. I simply couldn't let such a lovely dress go to waste, could I?"

Hugh coughed slightly. "You wouldn't happen to know why she fell ill so suddenly?"

"Why, I have no idea." Even in the dim light, he could make out Izzy's expression of sheer wounded innocence. "Maybe she ate something that didn't agree with her. Her lady’s maid was quite distraught, in any case, and _so_ glad when I offered my assistance."

Hugh rolled his eyes at her words, but when she pulled him in for another kiss, he didn't resist. He'd missed her so much, and he couldn't get enough of her lips, her taste, her small moans. Somehow his hands found her breasts, and when her nipples perked up under the thin shirt, the urge to tear it off her was almost too much to resist.

Izzy made no move to stop him, grinding herself against his crotch until he was seeing stars, just as eager for it as he was. "Maker, Hugh." She sounded rough. "You drive me crazy."

He whined in response, trying to catch her mouth again, but she was already sliding down to the floor, and now she was on her knees before him, unlacing his pants, and there was no way he could possibly bring himself to call a halt. Her fingers were so soft, and then her mouth was _there_ , hot and moist and wonderful and he almost lost it right then. Izzy sucked him in without hesitation, setting a fast and furious pace, and within moments, he had to stifle his groans with the heel of his hand. He came so quickly he had no time to think, so quickly that it was embarrassing, really.

But then again maybe it was just as well, because there were _people_ outside the alcove, going about their business, and he could hear them, see their feet shuffling by, and Maker, they would be lucky not to get caught. When Izzy got up, he pulled her close, shushing her with his finger, until the noise had died down. His little spat with Cassandra was still fresh in his mind. _I know what I'm doing_ , he'd said. But did he really?

"We have to be quick." He kissed her quick and hard. "I need to be back soon or-"

"It's fine." Taking his hand, Izzy pressed it hard between her legs. "Do that thing again, you know, like you did in the desert?"

"You mean this?" It was difficult to judge the right amount of energy to make her feel it through the fabric, but when he tried a quick flurry of light pulses against her core, she jerked against his hand with a breathless sigh.

"Yes. Just like that. Again." She was panting hard. "Just a little more, I'm almost there, just- Oh sweet Maker!"

She hadn't exaggerated. With the next charge of magic he sent through his fingertips, she grew taut in his arms, then shuddered all over, slumping against him. Hugh felt a fierce surge of pride, but they really didn't have time to linger. Quickly, he rearranged his clothes, and as soon as Izzy had recovered, she followed his example.

"Ah, but I needed that." She sighed contentedly. "Now, about that little problem of yours…"

* * *

Izzy was quite satisfied with herself. The evening had gone just as she had planned. With the help of the information she had gathered in the servants’ wing and the ballroom, Hugh had been able to expose the traitor before the night had ended. Duchess Florianne, the Empress’s very own cousin, had been only too eager to assassinate Celene and rule as Corypheus’ puppet. The woman had been quite insane, but Izzy was ready to admit that she had put up an impressive fight when they'd confronted her. Still, she had been no match for Izzy’s spells. A well-aimed lightning bolt had taken her out, just as she'd been about to plunge a dagger into Cassandra’s back.  

With Florianne dead and gone and her supporters routed, the Empress was safe, and all was well. They had even found the time for another dance, on the terrace overlooking the gardens. Izzy sighed happily at the memory of Hugh's arms around her, the scent of the exotic flowers, the stars shining above them-

"Hawke." Cassandra’s harsh voice tore her out of her pleasant thoughts. "A word?"

Now that the ball was over and they were back at the Inquisition’s quarters on the edge of the Palace grounds, on their own turf, Hugh had ordered ale and mead for everyone. _To celebrate our success._ His announcement had been greeted with considerable enthusiasm. They were all buzzed and excited, and despite the late hour, no one was in a hurry to go to sleep.

"Seeker Pentaghast." Izzy warily inclined her head. "What can I do for you?"

"When I realized it was you, at the ball, I was furious." Even now, Cassandra’s tone was brimming with rightful indignation. "To endanger our mission in such a thoughtless manner… I couldn't fathom how anyone could be so-" She broke off, as if there were no words to convey the enormity of Izzy’s transgression.

Izzy had done her best to listen quietly, but she wasn't sure how much more she could take. "Well. Have you quite finished telling me off? Because if you have-"

"No." Cassandra’s head snapped up, and she looked positively shocked. "That wasn't my intention at all. In fact, I…" She swallowed, clearly struggling to say the words, but she sounded sincere. "I meant to apologise."

Izzy felt her eyebrows shoot straight up. _Well, this is unexpected!_ "Apologise?"

Cassandra nodded jerkily. "The information you obtained for us was invaluable. Without it, I don't know whether we could have prevailed. Besides, I believe you saved my life in the fight against the duchess." Looking up, she met Izzy's gaze. "Thank you, Hawke. And please forgive me."

"It's nothing." Izzy shrugged. "I'm glad I could help. And I would have done the same for everybody."

"That's not what you told me." Cassandra was looking a little embarrassed now, and when Izzy made a small, questioning noise, she elaborated. "You told me you only help your _friends_ , remember?"

"That's true," Izzy admitted, recalling their conversation on the road to Crestwood. "Well, then I guess that makes us friends."

"Does it?" Was that a hint of a smile on Cassandra’s face? "Is it really that easy?"

"Well, at the very least I think we can call a truce." Izzy raised her glass. "Here's to our budding friendship."

"I'll drink to that." Cassandra was smiling openly now, and the smile transformed her proud face and made her instantly look twice as human. "May it flourish and grow. And may we have many more occasions to celebrate together."

As she took a sip of mead, Izzy caught Hugh’s eye over the rim of her glass. He looked pleased, and when Cassandra turned away to join Cullen at the bar, he winked at her conspiratorially. Moments later, he was at her side, embracing her tightly, clearly no longer concerned about their audience.

"I have to say I'm impressed." His lips were brushing softly against her cheek. "What have you done to Cassandra?"

"No idea." Izzy shivered as he trailed a hand down her back. "Seems I have somehow earned her respect."

"Well, then…" Hugh subtly increased the pressure. "I guess if you have our Lady Seeker's approval, that makes you a fully-fledged member of the Inquisition." His hand began to move in soft circles on her back. "How do you feel about that, if I may ask? Do you mind?"

Did she? Izzy hadn't thought about it in these terms, if she was quite honest. She was glad to have made her peace with Cassandra, but was she really ready to be permanently involved in all of this? Was she ready to settle down with Hugh and become _respectable_? For a heartbeat, the old instincts kicked in, and she felt badly torn. Should she run again? Or dare she stay?

But when she met his eyes, the answer was easy. "No. No, I don't mind. Not at all. I'm with you, for as long as you'll have me."

"Good." Hugh took a step back and motioned for her to follow him upstairs. "Because I don't plan on letting you go again."

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

"So that gives us one more reason to go to the Arbor Wilds as soon as possible," Hugh concluded his report, bringing both hands down onto the war table in a decisive gesture. "We have no choice. We absolutely must prevent the temple from falling into Corypheus' hands."

"Wait a minute." Izzy's face was scrunched up in a cute frown that made her freckles dance.

Under normal circumstances, Hugh would have found it hard to resist the temptation to kiss every one of them, but he was still considerably shaken by what Morrigan had shown him earlier. An _eluvian_ , an ancient elven mirror that served as a portal to the most incredible place he'd ever seen. The Crossroads were a place between this world and the Fade, maybe even between different worlds. Hugh had been completely overwhelmed by the magic he'd sensed there, magic permeating the very air they'd breathed and the ground they'd walked on. Immensely powerful magic - so powerful that they couldn't risk Corypheus' involvement.

His advisors seemed to agree with his assessment, for the most part. Cullen had already begun arranging markers on the table, his expression preoccupied, as he was planning their strategy. And Leliana was furiously scribbling notes on little strips of paper, intent on dispatching her scouts. Only Cassandra seemed a bit more reluctant. And Izzy was shaking her head decisively.

"How did you get your hands on a working eluvian?" Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Morrigan. "And how do you even know that that's what Corypheus is looking for?"

"Does it matter?" Morrigan sounded bored. "I have my own ways and means of finding out about those things. And I assure you that I know what I'm doing."

"Maybe you do." Izzy shrugged. "But maybe you don't. I would really like to have a second opinion before we rush off into the unknown. And fortunately, I know just the person to ask." She turned to face Hugh. "Let me write to my friend Merrill. Let her take a look at the mirror. Then, once we know more-"

"Your friend is Dalish, I presume?" Morrigan's tone had changed from bored to cutting.

When Izzy nodded, Morrigan's perfect eyebrows almost hit her hairline. "No offense, Inquisitor, but I have found the Dalish sadly lacking in knowledge about their people's true history. 'Tis all tradition and hearsay with them, I'm afraid."

"Even if that were true, which I don't believe for a moment…" Izzy glared daggers at Morrigan. "Merrill is no ordinary Dalish elf. She has devoted years to the study of eluvians, and she has sacrificed much. Please, Hugh." She shook her head in exasperation. "Let me write to her. Those things are dangerous."

"We can't afford to wait so long." Morrigan's voice was just as crisp and cold as her expression. "Your choice, Inquisitor. If you trust me, we have a chance of stopping Corypheus before he reaches the temple. If you don't…" She didn't finish her sentence, but then she didn't have to.

Hugh sighed deeply. He had to admit that Morrigan's attitude rubbed him the wrong way, too, and he would have loved to hear what this Merrill had to say about the eluvian. But they really couldn't afford to dawdle. "Morrigan is right, Izzy. We don't have enough time."

"So, you'd put all your bets on one horse?" Izzy's disgusted grimace was incredibly expressive. "Based on nothing but _her_ words? What if things go wrong? What if the Arbor Wilds are just a distraction and Corypheus strikes somewhere else as soon as all our troops are deployed there?" She glared at Morrigan. "Or what if he beats you to the eluvian and uses it to attack Skyhold? Since _she_ conveniently brought her own mirror with her and gave him a back door right into your fortress?"

"By the Maker, you're right." Cassandra had grown pale. "If we leave Skyhold undefended-"

"Not even Corypheus can open a portal without the proper key." Morrigan huffed impatiently. "I can assure you that my eluvian presents no danger whatsoever."

"Yeah, well. That's what you say." Izzy was clearly no longer in the mood to be polite. "I don't trust you."

"And I don't care." Morrigan didn't even look at her. "You're not the one to make this decision, _Champion_."

Hugh flinched internally, but before he could attempt to placate them both, Cassandra stepped in. "Hawke does have a valid point, Inquisitor. At the very least someone should stay behind and guard the mirror."

"If you say so." Morrigan was back to her bored drawl. "'Tis no business of mine if you want to stay here and miss all the fun, Seeker. I'm certain we can do without you."

Hugh wasn't quite so sure. But still, he had to admit that he, too, would sleep better knowing that someone was watching their back. "Then it is decided. Cassandra stays behind and-"

"Me, too." Izzy's lips were set in a thin line. " I won't be part of this."

"Not even if I ask you to?" Hugh tried to catch Izzy's eye, but she avoided his gaze. "I could use your help."

"No." Maker, she sounded downright petulant. "I doubt you'll need another mage anyway, but if you think you do, you have plenty to choose from, right?"

"As you wish." Hugh swallowed. It hurt to know that she wouldn't be with him, but he wasn't going to beg. "I'll ask Dorian then." Solas would perhaps be the more obvious choice, but he and Morrigan would spend most of the journey bickering, and Hugh wasn't up to that.

"Take the Iron Bull, too." Cullen had raised his head, looking thoughtful. "We'll need more brawn if Cassandra stays behind."

Hugh nodded sharply. "Right." He dismissed them all with a quick gesture, feeling a pang when Izzy turned to leave with the others without sparing a glance for him.

He would miss her. But it couldn't be helped. Someone had to make the tough decisions.

* * *

"Oh, come on, Varric. I know you can do it. Pretty please?" Pouting prettily, Izzy fluttered her eyelashes at her old friend.

"Why would you suddenly want a sequel?" Varric eyed her warily. "If I remember correctly you said _Swords and Shields_ was, I quote, 'insufferable drivel'. Not that I object, mind you. That book is easily the worst I've ever written."

"No, it isn't. I only said that to mollify Aveline. Maker, but she was furious." Izzy giggled. "But really, it's not _that_ bad. The smutty scenes are wonderfully steamy. Some of your best, I believe. Is it true what Isabela said, by the way? That you ask her to proofread all your smut?"

"Oh yeah." Varric chuckled softly. "And why wouldn't I? Nothing wrong with getting an expert opinion. But really, Hawke, why-"

"It's not for me." Izzy bit her lip. She had hoped to avoid telling him. "It's for Cassandra, actually."

"The Seeker?" For once, Varric looked stunned. "You're shitting me. _Cassandra_ reads my books?"

"She's a big fan, actually." Izzy grinned. "She borrowed my copy of _Hard in Hightown_ three weeks ago, and I'm still waiting for her to return it. But she seems to prefer your more… romantic tales. Oh, please, Varric. With Hugh gone, we're all bored out of our minds."

_Bored and horny, to be precise_. Izzy sighed internally. It hadn't taken her long to regret that she hadn't joined Hugh on his trip to the Arbor Wilds. Their bed was far too big and empty without him. Really, she shouldn't have walked out in a huff without considering the consequences first. But then, premeditation had never been her strongest suit.

"Hmmph." Varric snorted contemptuously. "All right. But why can't Cassandra ask me herself, if it's so important to her?"

"She's embarrassed, I guess. Doesn't want anyone to know she's into that kind of stuff." Izzy shrugged. "So she asked me. And I don't mind."

"No, you wouldn't. Takes more than a smutty novel to embarrass _you_. But I'm still not buying it. _Cassandra_ , asking _you_ for help? How does that- Ah! I get it." Varric's face lit up in a sudden smile. "It's a prank! Come on, Hawke, admit it. You're trying to get back at her for what she told Hugh about you."

"Nope." Izzy shook her head, clucking her tongue. "Not my style. Besides, I'm no longer mad at her. You know, Cassandra is all right if you get to know her a little better. She really is," she added, when Varric rolled his eyes at her. "You just need to give her a chance."

"Whatever." Varric huffed in disgust. "I think I liked it better when the two of you were still at each other's throats. Anyway, how am I supposed to just churn out a whole chapter?"

"I wouldn't ask it of anyone else." Izzy did her best to sound earnest and sincere. "But a writer like you, a seasoned professional…"

"Oh stop it. Flattery will get you nowhere." Varric glared at her. "Ah, sod it. You're not going to stop bothering me, right?"

"You know me so well." Izzy put on her most winning smile. "Ah, Varric, you're such a darling."

"Did I say I was going to do it?" Varric's tone was grumpy, but Izzy knew she had won, so she didn't bother to reply, just kept smiling. "All right." The dwarf sighed deeply. "Just give me a week or so."

"Great!" Jumping to her feet, she placed a quick kiss on his cheek. "This is going to be awesome. Thank you so much. Now, I need to be going. I promised Sera I'd bake cookies with her."

"Yeah, yeah, off you go." There was a deep fondness in Varric's gaze as he looked up at her. "I'll let you know when it's finished."

* * *

It took Hugh over an hour to track Izzy down.

She'd been there with all the others welcoming him back to Skyhold, of course, and he'd been glad to see a smile on her face. It had been such a relief that she no longer seemed to be mad at him. But then Josephine had whisked him away to discuss the diplomatic implications of what had happened in the Arbor Wilds. And when he'd finally emerged into the dying light of a gorgeous summer afternoon, Izzy had disappeared.

He tried all her usual haunts: the garden; the tavern; even the roof where he'd occasionally spotted her hanging out with Sera. But she was nowhere to be found. In the end, he decided to talk to Cassandra instead, and much to his surprise, he found Izzy there, in the attic room above the smithy, sitting side by side with the Lady Seeker.

Cassandra had a pile of parchment on her lap and the two of them were reading together, pointing out passages to each other with their fingers. And - wait a minute - were they _giggling_? Hugh couldn't believe his ears. 

Izzy whispered something he couldn't hear, but it sent Cassandra into a fit of laughter that shook her whole body, even as she flushed a deep, dark red. Hesitantly, Hugh cleared his throat.

"Hugh!" Izzy was on her feet in a heartbeat, pulling him into a tight embrace, and he had to close his eyes, momentarily overcome.

It was so good to hold her again, to touch her again, and he was glad that her body shielded him from Cassandra's eyes, because already he was responding to her, already he found it hard to resist the urge to drag her off to their room. He had missed her so much out in the Arbor Wilds. He'd missed her reassuring presence at his side while they were fighting Red Templars and behemoths and ghostly elven warriors. And most of all he'd missed her during the nights, when he was alone in his bedroll, trying hard not to think of her skin, soft and freckled, her firm, taut breasts, her heat surrounding him... It had been torment, and the soft moans coming from the tent Dorian shared with Bull hadn't helped matters.

"Inquisitor. It's good to have you back." Cassandra had averted her eyes to give them some privacy, but her voice was full of genuine warmth.

Just then, Izzy nudged his upper arm with her head, and Hugh flinched in pain.

"What's the matter?" She pulled back immediately, her joyful expression turning into a worried frown as she inspected the large burn on his arm. "You're hurt. What happened?"

"We had another run-in with Corypheus' dragon." He tried to keep his tone light. No use worrying her. "It was a little too close for comfort, but we got away. I'm fine."

"The dragon!" Cassandra shook her head. "And Corypheus himself? What about him?"

"He showed up as well." Try as he might, Hugh couldn't hide the shudder that ran through his body at the memory. Such a nightmare: the darkspawn magister, rising from the dead by possessing a new body, draining the life force of one of his minions to survive. It had been a gruesome sight, and one he wasn't likely to forget for as long as he lived.

"So, the witch was telling the truth after all?" Izzy sounded grim. 

"Yes and no." With a sigh, Hugh sank down on a chair, pulling Izzy into his lap. "Corypheus was there all right, and it's true that he was trying to get inside the temple. But as for the rest..." Wearily, he rubbed his eyes. "You were right to distrust her, Izzy."

The two of them listened in stunned silence as he described the events at the temple: Corypheus' attack, their journey along the pilgrims' path to the inner sanctum, their strange encounter with the elven guardians. And Morrigan's betrayal, the horrible, sickening moment when she'd rammed her dagger into Abelas' unprotected back, sacrificing him without compunction to fulfill her dream of drinking from the Well of Sorrows.

When he explained about the well and the lore surrounding it, Izzy turned pale. "Sweet Andraste, Hugh, please tell me you didn't drink from it."

"Why?" He raised a surprised eyebrow. "I thought you didn't believe in gods and higher powers?"

"I don't believe in what the Chantry teaches about the Maker," Izzy corrected him. "I'm reserving judgement on whether he actually exists. And as for the elven gods... Maybe they aren't actual gods. Maybe they're just spirits, or demons, or whatever. But that doesn't mean it's wise to fool around with them. And to _bind yourself forever to Mythal's will_ -"

"Don't worry. I left that to Morrigan." And looking back, Hugh was grateful he had, even though it had been tempting, the idea to gain so much knowledge in one fell swoop. But even back then, he'd been sure there would be a price to pay for it.

"Thank the Maker." Cassandra nodded determinedly. "A wise choice, Inquisitor."

"It's nice to see the two of you in agreement." Hugh couldn't quite hide his grin. "But you seem to be getting along splendidly anyway. What's that you were reading?" He'd tried to sneak a closer look, but whatever it was, Cassandra was keeping it firmly out of sight behind her back. 

"Nothing of importance." She was blushing _again_. Hugh had to admit he was intrigued. 

But before he could repeat his question, Izzy took his hand and tugged him to his feet. "Come on, now. Let's head for our room. It's about time you get a _proper_ welcome." 

Hugh glanced at Cassandra, but she appeared unfazed by Izzy's blithe innuendo.

"See you tomorrow, then. Inquisitor. Hawke." Smiling serenely, she got to her feet as well.

"Night, Cassandra! And remember – don't start without me!" A cheery wink accompanied Izzy's words.

"But I have to!" Cassandra protested, her face full of dismay. "How do you expect me to wait?"

"Well, all right then." Izzy was the very picture of magnanimity. " One more. I can catch up tomorrow morning, while you're sparring with Cullen."

Cassandra opened her mouth as if to contradict, but then she smiled. "Very well. Good night, Hawke."

Hugh couldn't take his eyes off Izzy's slim, graceful back while he followed her to their quarters. His heart was beating faster, and he was so full of joy that it was hard to contain it.

"So… What's the big secret, then?" he asked lightly, as they crossed the main hall. "What are the two of you hiding?"

"Ah, Hugh." Izzy's eyes were glittering with mischief. "What kind of a friend would I be if I told you? Let us girls have our little secrets."

"If you insist." Hugh knew well enough that it was no use badgering her further. In fact, feigning disinterest was probably his only chance to get her to break her silence in the long run. _Let's see how long you can keep this up._

When the door to their room finally closed behind them, Izzy turned to face him with a sunny smile. "Hugh. Come here."

He took a step forward, embracing her gently. "So you've really forgiven me?"

"For what?" Izzy looked genuinely puzzled, but then it seemed to dawn on her what he was talking about. "Oh, you mean our little spat at the war table." She shook her head decisively. "Did you honestly believe I'd hold a grudge against you for all those weeks? I'm not a spoiled toddler, Hugh. You had to make a decision, and besides, it all turned out well in the end, didn't it?" Placing a hand on his cheek, she breathed a soft kiss on his lips. "I'm sorry I was so unreasonable. I should have come along. Maker, I was so lonely without you."

"I know. Me, too." Emboldened, he caught her lips in a proper kiss, deepening it hungrily when she moaned against his mouth. "Blight it, Izzy, let's stop talking. I can't-"

"Yeah. Me neither." Her lips were hot on his throat, and her hands were fiddling eagerly with the lacing of his robe. "Bed?"

"Bed," he agreed, allowing her to drag him over to the big four-poster.

Their clothes came off in a rush, and then he was holding her tight in his arms, her body aligned with his for maximum contact, and Hugh almost wept with joy. She felt so incredibly good, soft and warm and silky, and he never wanted to let go of her again. And at the same time, he couldn't wait, he needed to be inside her as fast as he could. Forcing himself to pull back a little, he pushed one of his thighs between hers to part her legs.

But Izzy had other ideas. One firm shove of her hands had him lying on his back, with Izzy straddling him, lowering herself slowly down on his cock. He'd been almost fully hard anyway, and the feel of her, hot and wet and pulsing with want, easily did the rest. The pain in his arm was all but forgotten the moment she rolled her hips against him.

"Maker, Izzy." Involuntarily, he grabbed her hips, making her stop. He felt he was hanging by a thread already, and he had to take a few deep breaths to compose himself.

When he finally let go and allowed her to set the rhythm, it was sheer bliss. The mere sight of her would have been enough to make any man go crazy: her firm breasts bobbing slightly, her stomach contracting as she rode him, her face lit up by a triumphant smile. She was utterly gorgeous like this, confident and assured, revelling in the pleasure she gave him and her own growing arousal.

In the end, he simply couldn't bear keeping still any longer. Rolling over with her, he took control, thrusting hard and deep inside her. Izzy responded with a high-pitched mewl that was music to his ears. With each thrust, he felt her tighten around him some more, her whole body taut as a bowstring. It only took the smallest touch of his hand to make her scream.

When she'd settled down a little, he resumed his movement, focussing on his own pleasure now. And Izzy was only too eager to help him along, clinging to him tightly, allowing him to take what he needed from her. Already, he was close, so close, and by sheer force of habit, he tried to pull back in time, but Izzy wouldn't have it. Locking her ankles behind his back, she drew him in _deeper_ , urging him on with her sighs and moans, and before he knew it, he was coming, deep inside her, and it was so _good_. Such an amazing feeling, to be surrounded by her heat as he let go, spending himself in heaving shudders, too far gone to care.

"Damn it, Izzy." He glared at her as he carefully withdrew. "Are you crazy? We can't risk-"

"Don't worry." She shrugged, clearly unconcerned. "I've taken care of everything. We should be perfectly safe."

" _Should_." Hugh clenched his teeth. "There's no such thing as _perfectly safe_ , and you know it."

"Look, I've used those herbs for the past fifteen years without accidents. And I'm not getting any younger." A hint of impatience had crept into her voice. "Besides, pulling back is hardly a failsafe option either."

"True, but at least…" He realized he was trembling. "We need to be careful, Izzy. What if-"

"Yeah, what if?" Izzy's expression had turned uncharacteristically soft. "It wouldn't be the end of the world, Hugh. I love you. True, things aren't ideal right now, but if it happens… I wouldn't mind having your baby."

Hugh swallowed hard. _A baby_. He had never allowed himself the luxury of even considering the possibility. And he'd certainly done everything in his power to avoid fathering a child in the Circle, where it would have been taken away, to be disposed of as the Templars saw fit.

"You're not in the Circle any more." Izzy seemed to have read his thoughts. "We could manage."

But could they really? A child, and not just any child. A powerful mage child, in all probability, considering their respective family backgrounds. And with the world teetering on the brink of disaster… It would be madness, nothing else. And yet, the mere idea sent a sharp spike of longing through his heart. _Our child_.

Maybe they could build a future where their child would have a chance. Maybe, once this was all over, they could risk it. But not now. First, they had to deal with Corypheus. And this time, they would finish him off for good.


	11. Chapter 11

"Lady Vivienne? Could I have a moment of your time, please?" Izzy awkwardly cleared her throat.

Vivienne looked up from the perfectly manicured fingernail she'd been inspecting, but she took her time responding, giving Izzy a long appraising look that made her instantly question her approach. Had she sounded too formal? Not formal enough? Should she have used a different title? But which one? _Shit. Hugh would know_.

"Of course, my dear." Vivienne seemed to have made up her mind that a gracious response was in order. "What can I do for you?"

"It's about Chateau d'Onterre." Izzy had spent a long time wondering whether she should approach Vivienne about the topic. "I have a few questions, and Varric said to ask you about it, because you were with Hugh at the time."

"And so I was." Vivienne's full lips had set into a thin line. "Such an unfortunate affair. What is it you wish to know, exactly?"

"Just…" Izzy paused, trying to find the right words. _Why Hugh is still having nightmares about it. Why he refuses to talk about it. Why he looks so terribly sad, whenever the name is mentioned._ No, none of that would do. "I'd just like to know what exactly happened there. It must have been… upsetting."

"Ah." Vivienne shook her head. "There isn't much to say, really. When we arrived at the castle, all its inhabitants were dead or missing, except for the one who had caused it all. A young mage, whose parents had refused to do the sensible thing and take her to a Circle. Instead, they'd kept her hidden, because they were too proud to admit her existence. She ended up possessed by a demon, of course, killing her entire family and all their servants."

"I see." Izzy felt physically sick. It was all too easy to fill in the blanks in Vivienne's cold, clinical description. _Her parents kept her hidden._ A young girl, locked up in a remote castle, because her own parents were ashamed of her, of what she was. A sad, lonely child - easy prey for a demon. "What did you do?"

"Well, we had to put the abomination down, of course. The Inquisitor struck the killing blow himself." Vivienne sighed. "There was nothing else to be done, believe me. A classic example of what happens when magic's dangers are ignored."

_Oh Maker!_ So that was why Hugh didn't want to talk about it. Izzy couldn't blame him. "The poor girl," was all she said aloud.

"Oh, please." Vivienne's tone had grown considerably colder. "She wasn't a _girl_ , not any more. She was a full-blown arcane horror, too far gone for pity or mercy. Hugh understood that." She sniffed contemptuously. "Of course, I can see how _you_ might see things differently, Champion. From what Varric said, you were friends with the apostate who destroyed Kirkwall's chantry?"

"I was, yes. But he's gone now, as you're doubtlessly aware." Izzy's throat felt tight. Talking about Anders still hurt.

"Indeed I am." Vivienne was relentless, though. "Well, as an apostate yourself, you can hardly be expected to understand my point of view. Or the Inquisitor's."

"Hugh and I understand each other perfectly fine, thank you." Izzy's grief was rapidly being replaced by anger. "But, I take it you don't approve of our relationship?"

"It doesn't particularly worry me, darling." Vivienne shrugged gracefully. "The way I see it, it will run its course soon enough, once the novelty wears off, and you get bored with our dear Hugh. I can't see a girl like you settling for a respectable man like him. Or vice versa."

Izzy opened her mouth to reply, but before she could sort out what to say, Vivienne had already sailed out of the room, leaving Izzy staring at her ramrod-straight back. She wasn't even sure whether she wanted to cry or to scream in anger.

"Bitch!" she muttered under her breath, drawing a surprised breath when she heard a low chuckle behind her. Swivelling around, she found Dorian, rising from an armchair at the other end of the room, whose high back had hidden him from view.

"Ah, our lovely Madame de Fer. Always going straight for the jugular." He was smiling, looking perfectly at ease, and not at all put out at being caught listening. But when he noticed how shaken Izzy looked, his expression changed to one of tender concern. "Dearest Izzy." Before she knew it, he was at her side, putting an arm around her shoulder. "Don't let the old bat get to you. Vivienne's an accomplished mistress of the Game, never forget that. She will do anything to strike a winning blow. It's not even personal. Besides, she doesn't have a clue about you and Hugh."

"I don't know." Dorian's unexpected gentleness effectively destroyed the last bit of her composure, and Izzy had to bite back a sob. "She does have a point, Dorian. Hugh and I… We're so different. I don't think I'll ever see the world like he does."

"Well, who says you have to?" Dorian's voice had taken on a warm, soothing timbre, and his face was serious, completely unlike the suave mask he usually wore. "You're not like Hugh, it's true. And that's why he loves you. You are everything he is not, the other side to his coin. He needs you and you need him." He breathed a chaste kiss on her forehead. "You are different and you complement each other, and that's not a bad thing. Trust me. I should know."

Following his glance downward, she saw that his free hand had closed firmly around the necklace he was wearing. _Half a dragon's tooth_. Izzy knew that Bull had the other half. _Yes. He knows._ Few couples could be more unlikely than the cultivated young mage from Tevinter and the loud, brutish Qunari. And yet, there was no doubting the sincerity of their bond.

"Thank you, Dorian." Izzy swallowed. "You're a great friend."

"Any time, Izzy." He was already back to his normal, glib tone. "And now, let's head for the tavern. You still owe me a glass of wine, I believe."

* * *

Corypheus' dragon raised his head one more time, expelling a hot, laboured breath, and then it was over. _No. Not over. The worst is yet to come_. Hugh looked around to see who was still standing. Bull, Dorian, Varric. And Izzy, leaning against a pillar, with an expression of grim satisfaction on her face. Cassandra was down, her face a mask of pain as she gripped her thigh with both hands, and Vivienne was kneeling by her side, frantically casting healing spells.

"Come on." He gestured at his remaining companions. "Let's finish this."

Corypheus himself was waiting for them at the top of the ruined temple, surrounded by an aura of red lyrium and evil magic. It hurt to even look at him, but Hugh didn't flinch. He hadn't come this far only to give in at the final hour. They were all worn out by their struggle against the beast, and if it hadn't been for Morrigan's timely intervention in dragon shape earlier on, they wouldn't even have made it this far. But now here they were, with victory over Corypheus at their fingertips, and all they could do was attack, one more time.

They threw themselves into the fight with all they had, but Corypheus gave as good as he got. It wasn't a glorious battle. It was a dogged, desperate struggle that seemed to last for hours. Bull was bleeding from several wounds, and Varric's face was grey with exhaustion as he kept dodging magical attacks.

"Inquisitor. Are you okay?" Dorian had appeared from nowhere, right next to him. "You look-"

Another flash of red lightning cut him off mid-sentence, but Hugh could easily guess what he'd been about to say. He knew his own mana reserves were nearly finished. He probably looked like he'd been dragged through the Void. Of course, Dorian had no room to talk. There were blue shadows under his eyes and he looked disheveled, his hair and clothes a mess, a far cry from his customary serene and unruffled appearance.

"Come on, boss. We can do it." Bull sounded positively exhilarated, despite his many injuries. "Look at the bastard."

Corypheus had dropped to his knees right before them, his face frozen in a rictus of pain and rage. Hugh held his breath. _Don't underestimate him now_. The darkspawn magister's ugly claws were raised in an obscene parody of prayer, and was he calling on _Dumat_? Was he a true believer in the Old Gods then? Either way, there was the orb, suspended between his fingers, glowing red with the power of corrupted lyrium, and suddenly Hugh knew what he had to do.

The Anchor lit up, of its own accord, and all he had to do was raise his hand and focus his power on pulling the orb towards himself. The thing twitched in Corypheus' grasp and turned green, green like the Anchor. Corypheus roared in fury and Hugh felt the answering pull of his strength. _Now. This is it. The big moment._ He had to prevail, no matter what it cost him.

Hugh clenched his teeth, gathering all his power. But he was so exhausted, and his mana was rapidly draining away, and he was beginning to see bright, coloured spots in front of his eyes. Just a few more moments… The orb was drifting towards him, but then it suddenly froze in place and Corypheus _laughed_ , an ugly, triumphant laugh, as it began to drift back toward the magister. Corypheus was too strong, too powerful, and Hugh couldn't keep it up any more, he just couldn't-

"Hugh! Look at me!" Izzy's voice, from somewhere to his left.

It took all his strength to turn his head, but there she was, smiling at him, raising her staff, and suddenly he felt it, a surge of magical energy, all through his body, every cell buzzing with renewed strength. It was _her_ mana, _her_ power, he could _taste_ it, sweet and hot, and the sudden rush of power went straight to his groin. Behind him, Dorian cried out in surprise, but Hugh hardly heard him.

And now it was Hugh who was laughing, Hugh who screamed out his triumph as Corypheus dropped to the ground with a cry of pain and the orb slipped into his palm, cool and smooth. Without quite knowing why, Hugh raised his arm and threw it, sent it spinning through the air toward the bleeding gash of the Breach in the sky. There was a flash, a roar of thunder, and the Breach was gone.

Hugh was panting hard, his face flushed, and his body tingling all over. The Anchor was still pulsing with power, and without a moment's hesitation, he raised his hand again. "You wanted into the Fade? Then go." One blast from his palm at Corypheus' prone figure, and the magister was no more. Gone, forever this time.

With a groan, Hugh dropped his arm, suddenly weary beyond words. But there was no time to rest, because already the ground was crumbling under their feet. Izzy was at his side, looking pale but happy, and they were running, racing toward safety.

_We did it. He's gone. Corypheus is well and truly gone._ And there was no way Hugh could have done any of it without Izzy's help.

* * *

It felt strangely unreal, to walk through the Great Hall at Skyhold and have everyone bow to _her_ , Izzy Hawke, murmuring her name in hushed, reverential tones. No mention of Kirkwall, or the title of Champion, just her name this time, and other snatches of conversation she gathered. _Helped kill the dragon … slay the magister … close the Breach._ She was a proper hero this time, no doubt about it.

And all those people had gathered here to celebrate their victory, celebrate Hugh, first and foremost, but also those who had helped him take down the forces of evil. Everyone was here, it seemed, Orlesian courtiers and envoys from Orzammar, dour Fereldan arls and robed enchanters, a few remaining Grey Wardens, and of course all the members of the Inquisition, all their loyal companions.

"Izzy. Enjoying the party?" Dorian had appeared at her side, with Bull looming behind him. They were both well into their cups already, judging from their flushed faces. _And why shouldn't they? We've won._

"It's not bad." Izzy grinned when she spotted Josephine in a corner, frantically whispering at a liveried servant. "Our lady ambassador has spared no expense, it seems."

"Indeed." Dorian nodded, flashing a charming and slightly loopy smile at a passing Orlesian lady. But then he drew Izzy aside, his face suddenly serious, and she realized he was quite sober, really. "Now… you and Hugh during that final fight. What was going on there?"

She shrugged. "He needed help. I did what I could."

"You transferred your power to him!" There was an excited gleam in Dorian's eyes. "I've heard of such things happening, but they're exceedingly rare. I've never actually witnessed anything of the kind."

Izzy shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I just- I've no idea how I did it. I mean, Hugh was at the end of his strength, you saw that for yourself, and I… I just poured everything I had into him."

"It could happen, I guess. A power channel opening at just the right time…" Dorian thoughtfully stroked his moustache. "It would require a stable mental connection between the two of you, and some sort of strong emotion, such as love." A wide grin spread over his face. "Well, that settles it, my dear. If you needed any more proof that the two of you are meant for each other, this is it."

"Dorian!" Her cheeks felt hot. "I'm telling you, it wasn't a big deal. I-"

"Stop lying to yourself, Hawke." Bull chuckled warmly. "He's right and you know it."

"I'm right! Did he really just say that?" Dorian rolled his eyes in mock surprise. "Remember, Izzy, you are my witness, in case he tries to deny it later."

"Yeah, of course." Izzy nodded absent-mindedly. "Now, if you will excuse me-"

She had just spotted Hugh at the other end of the room, where he was listening politely to an elderly Circle mage who was wagging her index finger at him in an admonishing gesture. Looking up, he caught her gaze and raised his eyebrows in a mute plea for help.

Crossing the room was no mean feat. It had gotten even more crowded in the meantime, and Izzy had to elbow her way past several groups of enthusiastic revellers who were too busy sampling the excellent food and wine to step aside and let her pass. When she finally reached his side, the look in Hugh's eyes was bordering on despair.

"Izzy!" He sounded so relieved that she had to stifle a giggle. "My apologies, Enchanter Ethelinda, but I'm afraid I have to cut this fascinating conversation short. I believe there's an urgent matter demanding my attention."

"Absolutely. Important Inquisition business." Izzy put on her most pompous tone. "I need you to come with me at once, your Worship."

"Of course." Smiling apologetically at the old lady, Hugh inclined his head in a respectful bow.

Taking him by the hand, Izzy quickly dragged him off, before anybody else could interrupt them. Hugh didn't say a word while they hurried toward the doorway, but she felt the answering squeeze of his hand, warm and firm, and it made her smile. It felt good to be partners in crime, for once.

As soon as the door fell shut behind them, he pulled her closer, putting his arm around her waist and breathing a kiss on her hair. "Thank the Maker. And thank you. I was going crazy in there."

"That bad?" She grinned up at him as they made their way up the staircase. "Whatever happened to your famous diplomatic skills?"

He made a face. "Totally wasted on Ethelinda, trust me. The poor old dear is as good as deaf, and forgetful to boot. A complete sweetheart, of course, don't get me wrong, but-"

"Hey, it's fine. No need to explain." They had arrived at the door to his quarters, and Izzy didn't want to talk about Ethelinda any more. As a matter of fact, she was tired of talking altogether. "Come on in. Time to relax."

"Are you sure?" He sounded worried, but he didn't put up much resistance, when she pulled him over the threshold and started tugging at his festive robes. "I mean, we probably ought to have stayed around a little longer. The others-"

"Hugh!" A long kiss shut him up for the moment, and when they emerged for air, she kicked the door shut behind her, nodding in satisfaction at the decisive thump. "Forget about the others. It's time for our own little celebration, don't you think?"

"Oh, yeah?" He was breathing faster, and his arms tightened around her. "And what exactly did you have in mind? Dancing? Fireworks?"

There was no need to answer, of course. Already, his mouth was hot and feverish on her throat, and her moans and sighs left him in no doubt as to her wishes. As they sank down on the big four-poster together, their legs entwined and their bodies pulsing with want, Izzy closed her eyes in bliss. _Fireworks indeed. This is going to be good._

* * *

Hugh leaned back against the headboard with a pleased sigh. Through the half-open window, the sound of music and laughter reached his ears, but it was half-muted, just a distant backdrop to the peace and quiet of the room.

Izzy was curled up at his side, naked and gorgeous, her skin sticky with sweat, her heart beating fast against his ribs. He was still buzzing all over from their love-making, his cock twitching softly as he relived the overwhelming rush of ecstasy that she had given him only minutes earlier.

"Blight it, Izzy, that was…" He swallowed hard. "How come it gets better and better every time?"

"No idea." She yawned softly, tracing patterns on his chest with her fingertips. "But if we go on like this, I might just end up setting the curtains on fire." A quick spark from her index finger punctuated her statement, making him yelp.

"Ouch! You demon." He pulled her up and kissed her, quick and hard. "Maker, Izzy, I love you so much."

"And I love you." She squeaked happily when he tickled her stomach, and the sound made his heart skip a beat.

They tussled briefly, and then settled back into a relaxed, warm embrace. As he stared out at the darkening sky, Hugh couldn't recall the last time he'd been so simply, truly happy.

"A copper for your thoughts." Izzy sounded lazy and replete.

"I was just…" He nodded toward the window. "Just thinking that we really did it. Corypheus is gone. The sky is whole."

She followed his gaze to where the Breach had been. "True. We did it."

"Remember what you said a while back?" He swallowed. "About… having a baby? When Corypheus is gone?"

"Are you serious?" Izzy's reaction was immediate. Sitting up straight, she stared into his eyes as if she could look straight into his head. "Wow. You are." She chewed thoughtfully on her lip. "Hmmm. I might need a little time to get used to the idea, you know."

"All the time you need." Hugh smiled to himself. She hadn't said no. That was a good start. "And in the meantime, …" Pulling her back into his arms, he rolled over with her and kissed her deeply. "We could start by getting a mabari."

"Now that…" Izzy threw back her head and laughed happily. "That is a very good suggestion. Let's start looking for a puppy tomorrow."

"All right." Hugh found it hard to contain his own happiness. _Tomorrow_. The future stretched before them, bright and promising. He couldn't wait to see what it would bring.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the CMDA Secret Santa Fic Exchange 2016.  
> Hugs and thanks to my lovely beta suilven.


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